He responds immediately, his hands moving to the zipper of my dress, sliding it down slowly while his mouth moves from my lips to my jaw to my neck, kissing and biting gently at the sensitive skin there, marking me.
My dress falls to the floor in a pool of fabric, leaving me standing in just my black lace bra and matching panties while he's still fully clothed. "Not fair," I whisper, tugging at his shirt with trembling fingers.
He smirks slightly, pulling back to unbutton his shirt with quick, efficient movements, then shrugging it off his shoulders to reveal all that golden skin, the hard muscles, the scattered scars, the tattoos covering parts of his chest and arms.
I've never seen him like this, shirtless, completely bare from the waist up, all that power and danger on full display. "You're staring," he says, amusement in his voice despite the heat in his eyes.
"I've never seen you without your shirt," I say, my fingers reaching out to trace one of the scars across his ribs, feeling the raised tissue under my fingertips. "You're covered in scars."
"Occupational hazard, and mostly by your dear old daddy and grandpa," he says, catching my hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing my palm. "Does it bother you?"
"No," I whisper. "It's sexy."
He pulls me down onto the bed with him, his body covering mine, his weight pressing me into the mattress while his hands explore every inch of exposed skin, learning the curve of my waist, the dip of my hip, the softness of my thigh.
His mouth follows the path his hands take, kissing down my neck, across my collarbone, lower still until he reaches the edge of my bra, then he looks up at me with a question in his eyes.
I nod, unable to form words. He reaches behind me and unhooks it with practiced ease, tossing it aside, then his mouth is on me again, his tongue circling my nipple while his hand palms my other breast, the dual sensation making me gasp and arch into him.
"Ilay," I breathe, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
"Say it again, baby" he murmurs against my skin, his teeth grazing my nipple gently.
"Ilay," I repeat, and he rewards me by sucking harder, sending sparks of pleasure straight down to my core. He moves lower, kissing down my stomach, his stubble rough against thesensitive skin there, then he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties.
But instead of pulling them down with his hands, he leans forward and catches the lace between his teeth, looking up at me with those dark, dangerous eyes while he drags them down my legs slowly, the sight so erotic it makes my breath catch.
"You're going to kill me," I whisper.
"I wouldn't dare," he says with a wicked smile, tossing my panties aside. "I'm not done with you."
He spreads my legs wide, settling between them, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me open while he just looks at me, his gaze so intense I feel exposed in a way that has nothing to do with being naked.
"You're so beautiful," he says, his voice clipped. "I could look at you like this forever."
Then his mouth is on me, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles that make my hips jerk off the bed, chasing more of that sensation. He holds me down with one hand splayed across my lower stomach while his tongue continues its work, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on that bundle of nerves that makes me see stars.
"Oh God," I gasp, my hands fisting in the sheets, my head falling back.
He slides one finger inside my pussy, then two, curling them to hit that spot that makes my whole body tense, his mouth never stopping its assault on my clit. The combination is overwhelming, pleasure building low in my belly, coiling tighter and tighter with each stroke of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers.
"That's it," he murmurs against me, the vibration sending another wave of sensation through me. "Let me hear you, I want to hear every pretty sound you make."
I moan louder, my inhibitions completely gone, my body chasing the pleasure he's giving me. He adds a third finger, stretching me, his pace increasing while his tongue works faster, harder, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
"Ilay, I'm going to," I gasp, my thighs starting to shake, every muscle tensing.
"Come for me," he says, his voice commanding. "Let go, I want to taste you when you come."
I shatter, my body convulsing around his fingers, waves of pleasure crashing through me so intense I can't breathe, can't think, can only feel while he works me through it, his mouth gentling but not stopping until I'm gasping and pushing at his head from oversensitivity.
He kisses his way back up my body, his lips shining with evidence of what he just did, then he kisses me deeply so I can taste myself on his tongue.
"You taste so fucking good," he says against my lips. "I could spend hours between your legs."
"Later," I gasp. "I need you inside me now." He stands, unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down along with his boxers, stepping out of them and kicking them aside.
Then I see him fully naked for the first time, and my breath catches in my throat. He's big, bigger than I imagined, thick and hard and already leaking at the tip, and suddenly the reality of what's about to happen hits me. "Oh my God," I breathe, my eyes widening as I stare. "That's not going to fit, there's no way."
