My hands shake slightly as I work.What will it feel like? Should I ask about protection?
The practical questions battle with the desire coursing through my veins. I return to his room to find him waiting by the door. He holds a small foil packet in his hand. "A gentleman is always prepared," he says with a sexy smile that makes my stomach flip.
Of course. A man like him would have to be. Except that once, with Posey's mother.
"Come here," he says, voice dropping to that rough whisper that makes me wet between my thighs. We move back to the bed, and this time when he reaches for my panties, I don't stop him.
The cotton slides down my legs, leaving me completely bare beneath his gaze. "You're tense," he murmurs, hands stroking along my hips.
"I should never have let you leave this room. I had you in that perfect state where you were melting for me."
His touch is deliberate, knowing exactly where to caress to make the tension drain from my muscles.
When I'm liquid beneath his hands, he guides my palm to his chest, then lower. The hardness of him beneath the denim makes mybreath catch. This is really happening. His hands work at his belt buckle, the metallic clink sharp in the quiet room.
My mouth goes dry watching him slide the leather through the loops, then push his jeans down his hips. Even in the moonlight, I can see the outline of his aroused cock straining against black boxer briefs.
When those come off too, my breath catches. He's beautiful—lean muscle and masculine angles. Nothing like the fumbling boys from high school.
This is a man who knows exactly what he's doing.
"Touch me," he says roughly, guiding my hand to him. His cock is velvet over steel, hot and hard beneath my palm. I've felt one before, but not like this. Not with someone who makes my pulse race when he looks at me.
He grows even harder under my tentative exploration, a soft groan escaping his lips.
"Tara," he breathes, covering my hand with his to show me the rhythm he likes.
The power of affecting him this way sends heat spiraling through me. But when he gently moves my hand away and reaches for the condom, reality crashes back.
"Are you ready?" he asks, positioning his cock between my hungry thighs.
"I'm ready," I whisper, trying to guide him closer.
But he pauses, studying my face. "No," he says softly.
"First, this." He kisses his way down my body—throat, collarbone. Then he lingers at my breasts, teasing their nipples erect.
I moan with pleasure, then shudder when he reaches the juncture of my thighs. His breath is warm against my skin.
"Oh God," I gasp as his tongue finds my pussy
He takes his time, building the sensation with maddening restraint. Little flicks and circles that make me arch beneath him, hands fisting in the sheets.
The pleasure builds and builds until I'm trembling on the edge of something I've never quite reached before. The tension coils tighter and tighter until I'm certain I can't take anymore.
Then he stops, lifting his head to look at me with dark, hungry eyes. "I need to be inside you," he says, voice rough with restraint. He moves up my body, positioning himself at my entrance. The blunt pressure makes me tense despite his careful preparation.
He tries to push forward gently, then stops. "Tara," he says slowly, studying my face.
"You've had sex before, haven't you?" The question hangs in the air between us. I can't meet his eyes.
"Tara," he prompts, voice gentler now. "Please answer me."
"No," I whisper. "You're right. It's my first time."
He sits back on his heels, slowly shaking his head. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Heat floods my cheeks.
