"If you want to wait until after dinner," he says, his voice low and rough, "I will. But I need you to know that I've been thinking about touching you for weeks and you're so beautiful it physically hurts to be in this room and not be kissing you."
"The salmon can wait," I whisper.
His mouth is on mine in an instant.
And every flirty message, every late-night confession, every word we typed or whispered in the dark comes rushing to the surface like a wave that's been building for miles.
His mouth is hot and firm and hungry, and my back hits the wall as his body presses against mine. His hands are sliding into my hair and I'm kissing him back with everything I have—weeksof desire and years of loneliness and the wild, reckless hope that this is actually happening.
He groans against my lips…a deep, aching sound that vibrates through my chest. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."
"I have some idea," I breathe, and he laughs into the kiss, and then his mouth moves to my jaw, my neck, and I'm gripping his shirt as if it's the only thing tethering me to earth.
"God, you smell incredible," he murmurs against my throat. "You feel even better than I imagined, and trust me—I imagined a lot."
"Same." I pull him closer, and he presses his hips against mine and I can feel how hard he is, and a moan slips out.
He pulls back just enough to look at me. His eyes are wild, his breathing ragged.
The playfulness is still there, but underneath it there's an intensity that makes my knees weak.
He holds my gaze as he sinks down. Slowly. His hands slide from my waist to my hips to my thighs as he drops to his knees in front of me.
I can only blink.Is he?—?
"I've been thinking about this," he says, voice raw and low, looking up at me from the floor as if I'm some kind of angel. "About tasting you. About making you come on my tongue. I've thought about it every single night since that phone call."
I can barely breathe. "Chevy?—"
"Please, baby. Let me take care of you." He pushes up my dress, gathering the fabric at my hips. The air hits my bare thighs and I shiver. He presses his lips to the inside of my knee and I make a sound that's somewhere between a whimper and a moan.
"These thighs," he groans, kissing higher. "Fucking gorgeous." He lifts my left leg and drapes it over his shoulder, and the stark intimacy of it—his face between my legs, his handsgripping me, his breath hot against the thin fabric of my panties—makes my head fall back against the wall.
"You're soaked," he murmurs, and the awe in his voice nearly kills me. He drags his nose along the seam of my panties, inhaling deep, and the sound he makes is obscene. "You smell so good. Fuckme.”
He merely tugs my panties to the side, and the first stroke of his tongue on my pussy tears a cry out of me so loud it echoes off the cabin walls.
"Oh my god?—"
"Yes…" he says against me, the words vibrating through my sensitive flesh. "I want to hear every delicious sound you make."
Then he gets to work with the single-minded focus of a man who has, indeed, been thinking about this moment for weeks and intends to prove it.
He's thorough. He licks into my folds in long, slow strokes that make me tremble, then sucks and licks and tugs with his mouth and tongue, like he’s kissing me deeply. He teases and circles and nips, my fingers twisting into his hair. I make every sound imaginable…from groans to gasps. And he moans against me as ifhe'sthe one being pleasured, and it sends sparks up my spine.
"You taste better than anything I’ve fantasized about,” he breathes, pulling back.
"Oh…don't stop—please don't stop?—"
"Fuck, no." He seals his mouth over me again, and this time his tongue dances around my clit, making me shake and writhe.
Of course, this man, who listened to me and learned me and paid attention to every word I ever said, would know exactly how to touch me.
My leg is trembling on his shoulder. My hand is fisted in his hair. The wall is the only thing keeping me vertical becausemy entire body has become a single point of sensation centered where his mouth is ravaging me with unrelenting pleasure.
"Chevy—I'm going to…"
"Come for me, baby," he says, voice raw. "I want to taste every drop of it. Give it to me."
