His features pinch with worry. “It wasn’t?”
“It was,” I correct. “It was so far beyond good, I don’t have words to describe it.”
The worried lines on his face smooth out. “Okay. I thought so, but I wanted to make sure.”
Glancing at myself, I realize I’m completely naked—when did my bra disappear, I wonder—while Webb is still fully dressed. “There’s one problem, though,” I tell him.
“What?”
“Your clothes,” I reply, gesturing at his shirt and pants. “You’re wearing far too much. I want to see you naked. And then—” I take a steadying breath for courage. “I want to feel you inside me. Not just your fingers and your tongue. All of you.”
“You want me naked?” he asks. “And you want me inside you?”
I nod. “Yes. Unless you don’t?—”
“Noelle.” He silences me with a kiss. “That’s so far from the truth, it doesn’t bear saying. I absolutely want to. Now.” Rising to his feet, he yanks off his shirt and tosses it to the side. “Let me see about the naked thing, first.”
While he works at his pants, I stare shamelessly at Webb’s chest, cataloging his perfect muscles—not huge like a bodybuilder, but definitely ripped—and the brush of golden hair across it. On one pec he has a tattoo of twin arrows crossing over a blade, which is the logo for Blade and Arrow. On the other is what looks like a centaur holding a blade aloft, which I know from my research is the insignia for the Night Stalkers.
Webb catches me staring and asks with a smile, “Do you like what you see?”
Dry-mouthed, I nod. “Yes. Very much.”
Then my gaze dips below his waist, and all coherent thought flies out of my head.
“Oh,” I breathe. “Um.”
Webb removes his wallet from his discarded pants and pulls out a condom from inside it. Then he lowers himself back onto the blanket and braces himself above me. “We’ll be a perfect fit.” His lips trail across my collarbone, leaving a searing line of kisses behind. “I’ll make sure of it.”
And because I trust him, and my body is aching with a need verging on pain, I nod. “I know you will.”
“First,” he says, “I remember saying something about kissing you all over.”
My core squeezes at the memory of his kisses there. “I think you already did that.”
Heat flares in his eyes. “I kissed you insomeplaces. But definitely not everywhere.” Then he presses his lips to the tattoo I got when I graduated from college. “Like here.”
His mouth moves to the little quartet of freckles just below my right breast. “And here.”
Then he kisses the tiny scar above my belly button from the ill-fated piercing I got when I was eighteen. “And here.”
Goosebumps erupt across my body. “I love that,” I murmur. “It’s ticklish. But in the best way.”
His breath feathers across my stomach. “Good.”
I look at his erection, thick and hard and jutting eagerly towards me. Wrapping my hand around it, I stroke my fingers along his heated skin. “Do you like this?”
Webb sucks in a breath. His arousal jerks in my hand. “Yes.” His pupils dilate so his eyes are nearly black. “I love it.”
“Good.” I stroke him again. “I want to make you feel as amazing as you did for me.”
Webb takes my nipple into his mouth, sucking gently at it before releasing it with a little pop. “I do. I will.”
And for the next few minutes—hours?—we both do our best. Webb follows through on his promise to kiss me all over, while I take the time to learn how he likes to be touched—how much pressure to use and the motions he likes the most.
Finally, when the need to feel him inside me is unbearable, I grab the condom and start fumbling with the wrapper. Webb lifts his head from my breast and smiles when he realizes what I’m doing. “Do you need help?”
I thrust the condom at him in frustration. “It won’t open.”
