She must know what I’m thinking because she arches closer to me with a soft sigh, but only for a split second.
“Remember, no tasting,” she purrs.
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you,” I croak, staring at her breasts.
“I’m just repeating your demands,” she says, amused. Her fingers touch under my chin, guiding me to look up at her and also to lift my mouth. “What happened to touching me?”
A heavy breath rushes from my lungs. “Definitely going to kill me,” I mumble, turning my attention back to her body. I can’t taste her, but…
I cup her breast in one hand, absorbing the weight of it, the softness, before quickly pinching her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
She sucks in a gasp, arching harder into my touch.
Yeah. I’m not the only one who likes a firm touch.
My other hand goes to her other breast. I squeeze, then pinch once more, this one a little harder.
Shemoans.
I have to bury my face in her neck to control the urge to bite her.
Which doesn’t work because I sink my teeth into her shoulder instead.
My head spins when I feel her nails immediately dig into my arms, her hips grinding up against mine. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” I gasp. I shouldn’t be rough with her.I’m being too rough with her.“I didn’t mean to?—”
A groan steals my words when she rips my shirt to the side at my neck and sinks her teeth into my shoulder muscle.
“Fuck,” I mutter, my hips punching forward on reflex.
I prop myself on one forearm in order to keep my position on top of her—close enough for her to bite again—but my other hand brushes down her body and fumbles with the hem of her dress. I rip it up, far too aggressively, but I’m hanging onto my sanity by a thread.
And I haven’t even felt her pussy yet.
I drop my face to the bed, right beside her face, in an effort to control myself for a little longer. Even just the feelof her is enough to make me come in my pants like a goddamn teenager. I need to get my shit together.
But when my hand brushes over her hip, down to her bare skin, and over her thigh to the heat between her legs, I already know there’s no keeping my shit together around this woman.
Sliding my hand up the inside of her thigh, it takes one graze over the soaked fabric of her underwear before I’m squeezing a fist in the sheets and groaning into the bed beside her ear.
I’m so focused on my own sanity that it takes me a second to realize her grip is also fisted in my shirt, that she’s squirming underneath me and moaning something in my ear.
“Touch me,” she begs. “Touch me.God, please, touch me?—”
I don’t need to be told twice. I smooth my hand down the front of her lace underwear, directly to her slippery clit.
We both moan at that.
Fuck, she’s sowet.She can’t be faking that, right?
“Inside,” she begs. “I want?—”
I sink one finger deep inside her.
“Christ, you’re tight,” I groan into her shoulder. “I can feel you squeezing down on me.”
“More.” She rocks into my finger. “Give me more.”
Snap.There goes the hold on my sanity.
