When I meet her gaze again, I find Nina watching me apprehensively. “I want to keep my underwear on.”
I nod quickly. I want,need, to show her that no matter what happens tonight, I won’t be disappointed. If she decides to stop right now, that’s okay. If we end up only cuddling after this, that’s fine. If she wants me to put on a clownmask, I’ll for sure have some questions afterward, but I’ll follow her lead. “You’re the captain,” I remind her, my voice rough with want.
Nina smiles at that, her shoulders relaxing. After a brief moment’s hesitation, she steps back into my waiting embrace. I guide us carefully down onto the picnic blanket.Thank God I brought a blanket. I might just be the smartest man alive.
She is more measured now, less frantic, but no less intentional as she fits her body against mine.
I try to keep my own touch just as careful, to be cognizant to match the pace she’s setting, even as my brain short-circuits at the sensation of my hands on her bare skin, so much warm, bare skin. I could spend all day, all night, just caressing it. Worshipping her. I don’t know anyone more deserving of being worshipped.
As Nina settles into my embrace, the rhythm of her kisses begins to intensify, and I follow suit. When she turns her head to catch her breath, I trail my lips along her jaw, down her throat. The sound she makes will be etched into my memory forever. It’s the sound I’ll dredge back up the next time I take myself in hand, that moan of hopeless want, coupled with the memory of her soft and pliant against me.
Despite my best efforts to remain levelheaded, my pulse begins to spike as I lick and suck at the warm column of her throat and she moans again, squirming against me. The irrational impulse to bite down, to leave a telltale little red mark on her skin, begins to pound through my brain. Some inner caveman seems to have been unleashed inside of me, and I want to mark her, claim her, show everyone she’s mine.
I can’t. I won’t. It would cause so much trouble. But I want to, desperately.
Unless . . .
“Lovely,” I implore her quietly, “can I do this, but somewhere else?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Nina nods. I pull back and rearrange us so she’s lying on her back. Seeing her, splayed out and mussed and watching me with her dark, trusting, wanting eyes, I have to take a moment to regroup myself.
Then I lower my head so I can lick and suck and bite at the smooth inside of one of her thighs.
I’ll just leave a teeny, tiny love mark. That’s my plan, anyway. Dutifully I don’tstray anywhere too close to the hem of her underwear, determined to respect her boundaries as I explore the softness of her skin.
But then Nina slides her fingers into my hair, gripping tightly, and she begins to rock her pelvis against the side of my face. She moans, that same frantic, almost hopeless sound as she seeks friction against her softness.
Oh, fuck. I don’t want to push her boundaries, but my body responds immediately. Determination pulses through me—to quench that want, to give her whatever she needs, to make her feel as good as possible. Raising my head again, I search her face. “Nina?”
“Wes.” Her dark eyes lock on mine, wild with desire. She’s still rocking her pelvis, searching for friction, for me, and the fact that I’ve pulled away even for a moment seems to have driven her close to desperation. “I want to ...”
The words fade out, swallowed up in shyness, or maybe even shame. But this isn’t one of those times when I can just let things go unsaid. I need to hear her say it. “What do you want, lovely?”
A long hesitation, in which I find myself holding my breath.Nina, I urge her silently.Say it.
“I want to come. Please.”
Oh, hell yes. I’m so excited, my hands are shaking. I lower my head, but this time instead of focusing on her thighs, where I can already see a tiny, little red mark beginning to bloom on her skin, I take hold of her panties and wait for her nod of consent before I gently guide them over her hips, down her legs, and over her feet, casting them aside.
I’ve been dreaming of this pussy, of how soft and warm it would be, how good it would taste. It takes all of my self-restraint not to dive in tongue first. Instead I coax her to spread her legs, opening herself up to me. Oh, God. She is so perfect. So pretty and wet and waiting for me to help set her free.
I blow, softly, letting my breath tickle against her. Nina gasps, her hands finding my hair again and gripping on tight, frantically urging my face closer to her center. Fuck. She needs this. Still, I pace myself, trailing my fingers in light circles at the edge of her thighs, then letting my thumbs gently glide over her lips, spreading her open. I look up at her, over the length of her torso and the swell of her pretty, perfect breasts, and see her eyes dark and needy, her mouth open in soundless want.
Then I let myself go.
My tongue explores her every fold and crevice, mapping her terrain to my memory. Her hips snap up, seeking me out, a silent plea for more, and I give it to her, licking, sucking, swirling, until I reach the holy grail. When I begin to circle my tongue around her clit, Nina lets out a cry that is almost violent in its ecstasy. One of her legs loops over my shoulder, her heel digging into my back, spurring me on.
“Wes,” she pants, her entire body tightening before she releases.
I soften the pressure of my tongue in response, not retreating fully, but gently coaxing out the remaining tremors of her pleasure. Fuck. That was so quick. I’m glad she finished, but I could have stayed here much, much longer, savoring each moment, each gasp, each thrust, each moan, for as long as possible.
But she’s the captain, and I want this to be aboutherpleasure, not mine. So when Nina tugs me upward again, I take her in my arms, and kiss the top of her head, and hold her as she catches her breath, her heart pounding against me.
Chapter 37
Nina
Ithink I’ve been sewing the same stitch for the past five minutes. I keep catching myself doing it. I keep resolving to stop. But then my mind ... wanders.
