I set the flowers on the desk as Tate walks us past, his face buried in my neck. He plants soft kisses, sucking and licking.
“I’m starting to think you have a fascination with my neck,” I chuckle.
“I have a fascination withyou.” He lays me gently on the bed and crawls up over me. His hooded blue eyes gaze down, a small smile on his lips. “No, fascination isn’t the word.”
“Oh? What is?”
“Reverence.” His voices come out deep, gravelly— honest. My breath catches.
My eyes flick between his. The raw honesty and heat in his gaze do nothing but prove his words.
My knees fall open. He settles between them. I crush my mouth to his, when I lick the seam of his lips, he opens.
Tate kisses me until we’re both breathless. My hands start pulling at his clothes, trying to get them off. Anything to be closer to him.
He smirks against my lips and halts my hands. Standing to his full height, he makes a show of pulling his shirt off in that way men do. He kicks off his jeans, leaving him in only his boxers.
Tate is truly gloriously built. His palm rubs his erection through his boxers. I mentally thankEmalyn for the XL condoms. Hope he doesn’t mind pink.
He shoots me a smirk when I pull the shirt over my head. I lift my hips and shimmy out of the soft pajama pants.
To see this massive man drop to his knees in front of me stuns me.
My brows raise an inch.
His calloused hands wrap around my ankles, drawing soft circles. His grip tightens and pulls me down the bed until my legs are on his shoulders. His face is just inches from my most intimate parts. I feel my blush turn crimson.
He turns his head and plants a kiss to my thigh. I gasp and squirm. He kisses my other thigh.No one has ever taken their time with me like this before.
When he kisses higher, my legs try to clasp shut at the sensitive sensation.
"Sorry, I just–"
"Dont ever apologize to me, Alli." He murmurs. His fingers hook into my panties and slide them off. His mouth is on me in an instant. My hands fist in the sheet as sensation ripples through me. My eyes roll back in pleasure as I hear myself moaning his name.
Tate takes his time, learning me instead of rushing to an end. When release crashes through me unexpectedly, I grip him tightly.
He groans against me like he truly enjoys what he's doing. Then, he does it all again. And again.
After I'm panting and all time has ceased to exist, Tate climbs on the bed and pulls me into his chest. I kiss his lips, tasting myself on him and not caring one bit. He relaxes back onto the pillow, not letting me go when I try to snake down his body.
"You know, this feels a little uneven. How many times have you taken care of me?" I ask. He doesn't say anything, only brushes a strand of hair away from my face with a furrow between his brows.
"What's uneven exactly?” He whispers. He slowly plants soft kisses along my jaw. My cheeks heat. He's really going to make me say it, isn't he? He gives my ear a little nip.
"Well, you know…” My eyebrows raise imploring him to fill in the blank. His thumb draws distracting circles on my hip. I shiver when he trails his nose up the length of my throat, inhaling.
“The score, so to speak." I say, letting out a nervous laugh. He stills. My defences instantly rise, not knowing what I did wrong. He leans back until he can pin me with those sapphire eyes.
"I don't understand…" His eyes bounce between mine trying to figure out whatever he sees there. My own face mirrors his confusion. "What are we keeping score of?"
Oh.Something deep in my chest loosens.
This time when I pull back, he lets me go. Disappointment and confusion flash across his face. Until he understands my intention.
“Are you sure?”
I rub his impressive length over his boxers in answer. He sucks in a sharp inhale. I pull him free and stroke him. His head tilts back on a sigh. I smirk, enjoying having this effect on him. I feel powerful and sexy. When I decide to return the favor, it's not because of the score. It's because I want to make him come undone in the same way I did. I want to see him lose that control he always holds so tight to.
