The heat and intensity notches up moment by moment … until Jamie fumbles with my bra, unable to unhook it, and he buries his face into the crook of my neck with a frustrated laugh.
Warmth slides through me. It’s a cute, intimate moment. Jamie lifts his head, and the embarrassed flush on his face is somehow incredibly sexy and downright adorable at the same time.
“Need some help?” I wear a teasing grin.
“Don’t make me beg,” he answers, not at all disguising the fact that he would.
I unhook my bra, letting it fall. Jamie’s gaze drops to my bare tits. The hungry gleam that flashes in them takes my breath away. No one’s ever looked at me like that. The look in Jamie’s eyes is beyond appreciation; it’s like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen.
Jamie takes my tit in his hand, closing his mouth around it. His hot tongue flicks against my firm nipple. Electricity races up my spine, pleasure coiling in my center.
Jamie lavishes my tits with his touch. His tongue curling around my nipples, his warm mouth covering them, his rough and powerful hands palming them with reverence. With every sound he makes, with every movement, the sense of how much he loves my body radiates from Jamie.
Seeing—feeling—how much I’m turning on a man like Jamie pushes my arousal higher, and an insistent pang of want starts to throb between my legs.
“Jamie,” I urge. My voice is a needy whine. I plant my hands on his broad, rock-like shoulders and push down, indicating where I want him to go. He talked a big game back at the bowling alley, and I’m ready for him to back it up. Dying for him to back it up.
His eyes catch mine again. His cheeks are flushed, and a bashful smile slants his mouth. His hair is disheveled from my hands raking through it. His lips are swollen from the force of our kisses. He looks hesitant and eager at the same time. The combination makes my heart swoop.
“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he says. His smile tugs higher, even as the bashful look on his face deepens. A guy telling you he doesn’t know what he’s doing isn’t a stereotypical turn-on, but it’s the sincerity radiating from Jamie that makes his moment feel intimate. Special. “Don’t be too hard on me.”
I giggle, feeling light and flooded with endorphins. “I’ll try not to.”
“Don’t be afraid to tell me if I’m doing something wrong. Or to give directions. I don’t have an ego.”
That’s hot, too: Jamie making it clear that I don’t need to tiptoe around telling him what I like, that I don’t need to worry he’ll take it the wrong way, that it’ll damage his fragile masculinity.
He slides my panties off my legs, and I spread myself for him. When he sees me bare, his eyes turn dark. Intensity sharpens the lines of his face. The muscles tighten and arc at the sides of his broad jaw.
He shakes his head slowly, as if in disbelief. “Fucking hell. Carmen. Do you have any idea how perfect you look?”
Confidence and satisfaction beat behind my chest. More heat and wetness gather right where Jamie’s eyes are pointed.
He nestles his head between my thighs, and the point of his tongue drags up the length of my slit.
Pleasure pulses through my body. Jamie moans with gratification, like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted. Then his mouth is all over me, lips and tongue sliding across my slickness, swelling my body with bliss.
Jamie isn’t doing bad for his first time. Not bad at all. I start to moan, getting into it, as pleasure bursts through me in hot liquid throbs. But then I gasp, pulling my hips back from his mouth when he gets too overzealous.
“Not so hard,” I say in response to how he lashed his tongue against my clit. “It can be too sensitive.”
Jamie nods, humming in acknowledgement, and returns to what I liked. The next time he makes contact with my clit, it’s a much lighter touch. It feels good, but I want more.
“A little firmer than that,” I instruct. Then, when he circles the tight nub with just the right force, I feel like I’m melting. “Yes,” I moan, “just like that.”
My hips start to rock. The rumble from Jamie’s appreciative groans against my wetness is a sensation I’ve never experienced before. I grab onto the slabs of muscle on his forearms, curling my grip, my fingertips pressing hard into the dense thickness. A coil of hot tension is pulling tight between my hips, the first hints of my release licking at me like flames.
Jamie pushes a finger inside me. The sensation of being filled with the big, sturdy digit brings me close to the edge; and when he curls it, brushing against a part of me that no one’s ever touched before, I fall over it.
My orgasm crashes through me. The sensation is overwhelming, the intensity of it scrambling my brain. Spasms of bliss wrack my body, and between my legs, Jamie laps up every drop that my release wrings from me.
When I come down, and I can see straight, I realize I was gripping Jamie’s forearms so hard that my fingernails broke skin. The sight of the marks I left on him fills me with an erotic thrill, clearing away some of my post-orgasm brain fog.
From between my legs, Jamie looks at me, my wetness coating his mouth, his hair even messier than before, and a drugged look in his eyes. “Carmen … that was amazing.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You think it was amazing?I’mthe one who came.”
He smiles, coy but self-conscious. “Well, about that …”
