That was ice cream at a picnic table.
I was focused on part four, and the way all the casual touches built up to the point my mind could only think about touching him.
The car was filled with a comfortable silence as he drove me home, but the way he gripped my hand was a huge hint that he, too, was anticipating the next step. He wanted me to set the pace, and I wantedmore.
Especially if I knew telling him the truth could change everything. Sleeping with him, taking my time with him…hell yes. I wanted that.
He parked on the side of the street, got out, and he grabbed my hand as I led us to my front door, all without speaking. It was only when we stood right outside it, with my keys in my hand, that he bent down and bit the part on my neck that connected with my shoulder. I groaned and dipped my head forward, letting my forehead rest against the door.
“You smell so good,” he said into my skin, trailing his teeth up until he bit down on my earlobe. He brought his hands to my sides, grazing the sides of my breasts, before pulling me tight against him. “Open the door and go inside before I do something stupid out here. I haven't touched you indays.I’m dying.”
Lust overtook my brain, and I fumbled with the keys a few times before getting it into the lock. I swung it open but barely stepped inside before he lifted me off the ground. “Oh!”
He had my legs wrapped around his waist, his hungry eyes staring into mine, and he pushed me against the door. “Thisdress.” He slid his hands under the flimsy material and cupped my ass, his eyes going wide as he felt the fabric. “Lace?”
“Uh-huh,” I said, so keyed up it wouldn’t take much for him to get me off. One touch was all I needed. I rocked my hips into him, and he stilled, bending down and kissing me hard. This kiss had tongue and teeth. It was messy and desperate. I clung to him as he ground his erection in between my legs, the only thing separating us my thin panties and his pants. “Christopher,” I said, begging for something. Anything.
His frantic movements and rigid muscles eased my mind that I wasn’t alone in wanting to go straight to the bedroom.
“Are you wet for me, Gilly?” he said after removing his mouth from mine. “If I reach into your panties, will you be soaked?”
“God, yes.” I arched my back and willed him to just do it. Touch me.
But he laughed softly and carried me from the door to the couch.
“No, bedroom.”
“Not yet.” He placed me on the sofa and spread my legs wide, the dress still covering all my parts. “I want to look at you, taste you, make you go crazy. I don’t plan on rushing a damn thing with you. Can you handle that? Going nice and slow?”
“Uh-huh,” I mumbled, right before he slid one strap of my dress to the side.
He wasn’t kidding about taking his time. He stared at my bare shoulder before sliding the other strap off, alternating between kissing my skin and flirting with the edge of my dress. His gaze felt like a warm caress, and I shivered with need.
“Sit up for me,” he said, reaching around my back as I did and unzipping the back of the dress. His chest heaved when he pulled the bottom of the material, slowly revealing my pebbled nipples to him. He groaned and traced one with the tip of his fingers, making me buck underneath him. He teased both of them with his hands, pinching and squeezing until I was going to lose my goddamn mind.
“Patience. I promise it’ll be worth it.” He bent low, licking the tip with his tongue and flicking one nipple before sucking it into his mouth.
My clit swelled with need as he sucked harder, gripping my hips with his hands as he tastes every inch of my chest over and over. I fisted his hair in my hand, the sensation almost hurting it felt so good, and he stopped sucking them.
“God,” he said, panting like he’d run a mile. “You’re gorgeous.”
He spent so much time on my breasts, I was wet and needy, but if I tried to pull away, he bit down harder, taking my nipple between his teeth and pulling.
“Christopher,” I moaned, loving the blurred line of pleasure and the sting.
“I want you so much. Every way,” he said, kissing up the center of my breasts and looking up at me with the sexiestlovingexpression.
I cleared my throat, shifting the emotional scale.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I asked, arching my hips up so he would get the hint to go further with me. He made no moves though. He took the dress and slid it down the rest of my body, sucking in a breath when he eyed my panties. He bent down and bit the hemline of them, pulling the material down with his teeth. “Oh, wow,” I moaned, honestly afraid one could die from a lack of an orgasm. “Christopher, please.”
“Almost there,” he said, taking my panties off and spreading my legs wide. He saw all of me, completely bare, and before I could overthink our position, he bent his head low and licked me. It was torture in the best way. Fast, then slow. He hummed against my most sensitive area and flicked his tongue right where I needed him to. Pressure built almost to the brink, and then he slowed down and flashed a dangerous grin at me. “Iloveyour body, Gil. Your sounds, your taste.”
I couldn’t even mumble a reply when he flattened his tongue against me. My muscles tensed, and he held me down with one hand—so hot—as my orgasm started tearing through me. It was like a sucker punch. The air left my lungs as pleasure exploded to every limb. All I could hear was his content groan against me, and all I could feel was him. His hands over my stomach and thighs, his tongue and teeth between my legs, and I arched my back, losing control.
I saw stars when I caught my breath. “Holy shit.”
“You okay?” He pressed another light kiss on my inner thigh, and I wanted to melt. It was so tender and kind.
