"Did you..." I swallow hard, gathering courage. "Did you touch yourself last night? Thinking about me?"
"Yes." No hesitation. "In the shower. Came so hard. And it wasn't enough. It's never fucking enough when it comes to you."
"I did too," I confess. "In your shower. Used your soap. Smelled like you and couldn't stop thinking about your hands on me instead of my own."
Something snaps in his eyes. One second he's standing there, the next he's scooping me up like I weigh nothing, carrying me down the hallway to his bedroom.
He lays me on his bed—a massive king-size covered in dark blue sheets, and follows me down, bracketing me with his arms. The mattress dips under his weight.
"Tell me to stop," he says, voice strained. "Tell me this is a mistake and I'll stop right now. But if you don't say it, Nicole, I'm not stopping. I'm going to strip you naked and worship every inch of your body the way I've been dreaming about for three years."
"Don't stop." My hands find the hem of my tank top. "Please don't stop. I need you, Boone. Need to feel you. Need—"
He doesn't let me finish. His hands cover mine, helping me pull the tank top up and over my head. My breasts bounce free, still covered by my bra but straining against the cups.
"Fuck," he breathes, staring. "You're so beautiful. So fucking perfect."
He palms my breasts, squeezing gently, and I arch into his touch. His hands are huge, calloused from ranch work, rough against my soft skin. It's everything I imagined and more.
He reaches behind me, unhooks my bra, and tosses it aside. My breasts spill free, nipples already hard and aching.
"Perfect," he murmurs again, then lowers his head.
His mouth closes over my nipple and I cry out. He sucks hard, tongue swirling, teeth grazing just enough to send electricity straight to my core. His hand kneads my other breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers.
"Boone," I gasp, threading my fingers through his hair. "Oh God, Boone…"
He switches sides, giving my other breast the same attention while I writhe beneath him. My hips buck up, seeking friction,seeking him. He releases my nipple with a wet pop and kisses his way down my stomach.
"Need to taste you," he growls. "Been dreaming about this. About making you come on my tongue. Say yes, Nicole. Tell me I can."
"Yes," I whimper. "God yes, please—"
He unbuttons my jeans and drags them down my legs, taking his time, kissing every inch of skin he exposes. My thighs. My knees. My calves. When the jeans are gone, he spreads my legs wide and stares at my completely soaked through panties.
"Jesus Christ." He runs one finger along my slit through the fabric. "You're drenched."
"Your fault," I manage.
"Good." He hooks his fingers on the waistband. "I want you dripping for me. Want you so wet you can't think straight."
He pulls my panties off slowly. Then I'm completely bare before him, legs spread, pussy exposed and gleaming.
He kneels between my thighs, and the sight of him there… This massive, gorgeous man kneeling to worship me nearly makes me come right then.
"So pretty," he murmurs, running his thumbs along my inner thighs. "Pink and swollen and perfect. All for me."
Then he leans in and licks me from entrance to clit in one long, slow stroke. I scream. Actually scream. My back arches off the bed and my hands fly to his hair, gripping hard.
He does it again. And again. Licking me thoroughly, hungrily, like I'm the best thing he's ever tasted. His tongue circles my clit, flicks over it, then moves down to thrust inside me.
"Fuck," I sob. "Fuck, Boone, that feels—oh God—"
He grips my thighs, holding me open, and buries his face deeper. His beard scratches my skin. His tongue works magic I didn't know was possible. And then I feel it… One thick finger pushing inside me.
"So tight," he groans against my pussy. "Taking my finger so well, sweetheart. Think you can take another?"
"Yes," I beg. "Please, Boone, I need—"
