Sandra reaches back, her fingers tangling in my messy golden hair. "You make me feel beautiful." A soft purr rumbles in her chest.
I purr in response and lean up to kiss her as my slick hands drift over her stomach. I pull back from her to kiss her stomach, too.
As I trace the curve of her waist, my fingers brush the thick waistband of her maternity leggings. The casual contact sparks a sudden, intense desire low in my stomach. I trace the line of her thigh right over the dark fabric, my touch lightening from a firm massage to a slow, agonizing caress.
She shifts her hips back against my knees, parting her legs just a fraction. The message is clear. The clothes are a barrier we no longer want.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her leggings. I slide them down her legs, taking her cotton panties with them, andtoss the garments off the side of the bed. The warmth radiating off her bare skin demands full contact.
I stand up next to the bed, stripping my paint-splattered t-shirt off in one fluid motion. I kick off my jeans and step out of my boxer briefs, leaving them in a pile on the floor.
I crawl back into the center of the nest. The slick oil on her body transfers to mine as I settle close behind her again, sliding our skin together in a perfect, frictionless glide.
I lean down, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the line of her spine. I drag my teeth over her skin, feeling her shiver in response. I slide my right hand up her side, tracing her ribs before reaching around to cup her heavy breast. Her nipple hardens against my palm. I roll the sensitive peak between my thumb and forefinger, slick with the remnants of the massage oil.
Sandra gasps, arching her back to press her spine flush against my chest. Her purr turns louder, vibrating through the mattress.
"Oli," she breathes, turning her head to look at me over her shoulder. Her dark eyes are blown wide, the pupils swallowing the irises. The pure lust shining in her expression breaks my last shred of restraint.
I pull her flush against me, wrapping my arm around her waist. I lean in, capturing her lips. The kiss is slow, deep, and consuming. She tastes like herbal tea and pure, unmistakable desire.
The kiss deepens, our tongues tangling in a slow, messy slide of heat and slick friction. I drag my hand from her breast down the curve of her stomach, mindful of the baby, before letting my fingers trace the sensitive dip of her navel. Sandra arches into my touch, her breath hitching against my mouth.
I pull back, leaving her lips shiny and flushed. The jasmine scent pouring off her turns intoxicating, thick with arousal.
I shift my position, moving down the mattress. I guide her gently onto her back, wedging a thick memory-foam pillow under her right hip to keep the pressure off her. She settles into the incline; her legs falling open for me without a single trace of hesitation.
I settle between her parted thighs. The sight of her unravels my control. Her chest heaves, her skin gleaming with the massage oil. The slick, swollen folds of her pussy glisten in the dim light of the bedroom. She’s dripping for me, her body primed and ready.
With my hands braced against the mattress beside her hips, I lean down. I part her slick folds with my nose, my hot breath hitting her sensitive skin before I press a single, reverent kiss over her slick center. I mold my lips to her damp heat and suck on her swollen folds.
Sandra lets out a shuddering, high cry. Her fingers dig into the heavy comforter beneath her.
I trace the slick outer lips with my tongue, moving with agonizing slowness. I lap at the wetness pooling there, tasting the sweet, distinct flavor of her arousal. I push my tongue deep into her opening then drag it upward in one long, firm stroke to find the swollen bundle of nerves. I lock my mouth over her clit, applying steady, relentless suction.
"Oli!" Sandra’s hips buck upward, lifting off the mattress.
I catch her thighs, holding her steady. I don't let up. I swirl my tongue over the hypersensitive nub, combining the suction with rapid, targeted flicks. I focus on her pleasure, mapping her reactions. When she whines and thrashes her head against the pillows, I increase the pressure. When she lets out a long, breathless moan, I slow the pace, teasing her right on the edge of the drop.
Her inner thighs tremble against my cheeks. The scent of her arousal fills my lungs, triggering my own desperate need. Mycock throbs, leaking pre-cum onto the sheets beneath me, but I ignore the ache. This isn't about me right now. This is about showing her how much she means to me.
I slip two fingers into her wet opening, sliding deep inside her slick channel. She’s tight, the muscles clenching around my fingers in rhythmic, hungry pulses. I curl my fingers upward, finding the textured spot on her front wall, and stroke it in time with the suction of my mouth.
Sandra loses her mind. She arches her back so hard her spine leaves the pillows. Her hands leave the comforter to tangle in my hair.
"Please," she sobs, her voice completely wrecked. "Oli, please, it’s too much."
I pull my mouth away, leaving her gasping for air. I trace her inner thigh with my nose, inhaling the heavy, beautiful scent of her.
"Just let go." I drag my tongue back up to her opening. "I want to give you everything."
I dive back in, capturing her clit and sucking hard. My fingers pump in and out of her, matching the frantic, desperate pace of her bucking hips.
She nears the edge. Her breathing turns into short, harsh pants. Her inner walls clamp down tight around my fingers in a vice grip.
Just as the first violent tremor hits her thighs, she suddenly pulls hard on my hair.
"Stop." She tugs me up, her chest heaving, her eyes wild with a feral, demanding need. "Stop. Come up here."
