He slides his hands under the hem of my shirt, his fingertips gliding up my ribcage, and I squirm under his touch.
“You like that.” It’s not a question but more a confirmation of my body’s reaction.
“I do.” I let him keep kissing me there because I love having the back of my neck kissed. “Now you’re going to slide my shirt up and kiss down my spine. Don’t forget your hands need to be doing something too. And no groping me. Try to think of how it might feel to me, not you.”
“Hey, no judging something before I even do it.”
I giggle, but then he shifts so that he’s partially draped over me, keeping his weight from crushing me. His hands slide under the hem, bringing my shirt up as he runs his nose along my spine.
Holy shit—he’s a fast learner.
I lift my torso so he can push my shirt up, and then with his help, I slide my arms out, and he tosses it on the floor.
“I feel like it’s too early to remove a piece of clothing,” he says.
“Are you complaining?”
“Hell no. But when do I get to unhook the bra?”
He chuckles as though he’s not serious, then his lips fall to the top of my neck, and he trails them down my spine. I moan, my breath stuttering the farther down he goes, and when he’s right above my pant waistband, I want to say fuck it, just have sex with me—but that’s not the point of this exercise.
Instead of asking about continuing his path down, he shifts and runs kisses up the side of my body, his hands sliding ahead of his lips, grazing my side boob.
“You can unhook my bra, but you’re going to do it and leave my bra on for a few minutes.” God, this whole thing now feels like a lesson in patience for myself.
Foster’s hands slide up either side of my torso, and he unhooks my bra with more ease than I’d like. I’m smart enough to know that he probably mastered that move at a young age.
“Now I’m going to roll over, and you’re not going to remove my bra, got it?”
“You don’t have to sound so mean.”
I laugh and roll over, but as soon as I see the heat in his eyes, my laughter dies. It’s clear I’m not the only one who is turned on right now.
“Did you know that blue is my favorite color?” His eyes fix on my nipples poking through the see-through blue material of my bra.
“Mine too.” I stare into his blue eyes.
He sits on my legs, not putting his entire weight on me, and his calloused palms run up and down my ribcage. His hands are so large that his fingers are splaying all the way to my sides. His thumbs tease the bottoms of my breasts, and I suck in a sharp breath.
Foster’s gaze bounces around from my face to my breasts to where his hands are splayed over my skin. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”
“I don’t mind you telling me.”
He smirks and lifts the edge of my bra, testing his touch on the underside of my breast.
“Did I tell you that you could go there?”
“Sorry. It felt natural. Should I not go on instinct?”
I slide the strap off one arm, then the other but keep the bra covering me. “Your instincts are good. Surprisingly.”
I giggle, and he pinches my nipple through the fabric.
My giggle morphs into a moan. “Kiss my stomach and travel upward.”
I tilt my head, and he bites his bottom lip, sliding down and settling himself on his stomach, kissing my small belly first. The space between my thighs is humming, begging for some attention.
“Now come up as slowly as you can. You’re going to leave my bra on. You can use your lips, your tongue, your fingertips, but that’s it.”
