“You remember what to say if it’s too much?” He moves to my other breast.
“Yes… God!” I cry as his teeth sink into me.
“You like it a little rough… Don’t you, baby?”
“Yes!” My back bows with his hardening sucks. “How do you know?”
“Your books.”
I rub my center against his hardness, searching for relief. “What about them?”
“I pay attention to which stories are your favorites.” His fingers grip the globes of my ass, moving me against him. “And I’ve read them… A few times.”
“You read my favorite books to learn what I like?”
“As much as I’ve fought this, I still wanted to know your desires. What it would be like with you… Even if it was just a fantasy.” He nips at me.
“And does this live up to the fantasy?”
“Fuck the fantasy… All there is, is this.” He kisses a trail between my breasts.
The combination of rough tenderness spools tension tighter. He’s not holding back with me. His mouth tests and plays, finding the right rhythm. The throb between my legs begs for release.
“Please…” I rake my fingers into his hair.
“Too much, baby?”
My skin sizzles with the sinful waybabyfalls from his lips. He’s playing with me like a cat with a very needy mouse. The way I writhe against him telegraphs how verynottoo much this is.
“Make me yours. Ensure there’s no question,” I repeat his words from earlier like a breathless dare.
“Fuuuuuck.” He presses his forehead to mine.
Two can play this game. “Too much? You know what to say, baby,” I coo, mischief curling my lips with his pained groan.
He slides me off his lap. Before I can whimper my protest, his mouth is on me. His heavy body presses me into the bed. Like a ravenous animal, he devours. It’s messy. It’s rough. It’s almost everything I want from this man. For him to be undone by his need for me, mirroring my own desire for him.
“Garrett…please fuck me…please.” Raking my fingers into his hair, I grind against him in hopes of finding my own relief. The ache pulsing at my center threatens to consume me.
“Not yet, baby…but I will take care of you. I promise.” His fingers slide beneath my sleep shorts and stroke over the tuft of hair along my pussy. “Fuck… Are you not wearing panties?” His question is tight, as if in pain.
“Correct.” I nip at his lips.
“Just kissing… Just kissing…” It’s almost a mantra accompanying his mouth’s march down my body. Spreading my legs, he presses his mouth to my center through the barrier of my shorts. “You’re so wet already.”
“Gar—rett,” I whine with his tongue’s tease of my clit through the fabric.
It’s the most decadent torture. His mouth on me, but not quite. My body begs for release, while praying it never comes. The sensation of his mouth on me, even through my sleep shorts, sets me on fire. I may die from this, and what a way to go.
“You’re so close, aren’t you?” His voice is wicked.
“Yes,” I whine.
“Maybe…” He grips my waistband. “I could tip you over the edge.”
“Yes!” Relief fills me as he drags my shorts down.
“Spread your legs wide for me.”
