Butterfly Tattoo

I growl, “Later,” toying in frustration with the fly of her jeans.

“Let me help,” she whispers, and snakes out of them easily. Some more wrangling, then I’m down to nothing but my boxers and an achy hard-on, those lacy little panties of hers making me half-crazy. So I begin to kiss her…low.

Then lower even still.

Arching her small hips up against me, she tangles her hand in my hair. “Michael, no!” she cries out.

I’ve been kissing her navel, licking it—now I’m confused. See, I have plans in mind, and staring up at her in the darkness I wonder if she doesn’t like those plans. She reaches, tugging at the top edge of her bikini underwear where two very long scars are visible. But I don’t give a shit about that.

She needs to understand that my male self is focused on only one thing—my dark, warm prize, only slightly farther down from where I’ve been showering her with these kisses. One thought pounds hard through my body: God, men are so much easier to figure out.

“You don’t want this?” I ask, swallowing hard. Blood rushes in my ears, loud. Hell, it rushes through my whole damn body.

She runs a shaky hand through her disheveled blonde hair, sinking into the pillows without another word. She’s given so much damn thought to these irrelevant scars; maybe now she’s realizing how insignificant they really are between us.

“Relax, baby,” I whisper, bending low and pressing a sweet kiss against her abdomen—against the largest scar of all. Very slowly, I trail kisses down the length of it, peeling back her panties until there’s only her. Letting her know I want to love every inch of her.

Once the lingerie is stripped away, and there’s only my mouth against her warm skin, she releases an aroused, happy sigh of feminine pleasure.

And with that one very girlish sound, I nearly lose it completely.

I go lower still, licking my tongue along that one long scar, pressing her thighs open a little wider so she’s ready for what I’m going to do next. Oh, man, it’s been a long time since I’ve tasted honey this sweet.

She lifts her hips the moment my tongue gives her a first stroke, her hands digging into my scalp, twining in my hair.

“Oh, Michael.” She’s tensed in reaction to what I’m doing, and moans a little. But I want to be sure she’s not uncomfortable, so I stop, looking up the line of her body as if I’m a sailor staring across a ship’s bow.

“You good with this, baby?”

Slowly she lets her hips drop to the mattress, leaning back into the pillows. With an audible swallow, she nods, eyes shining bright.

“So you liked that?” I can’t help but feel a little wicked, and with my hands wrapped about her thighs, and my mouth just inches away from my gleaming prize, I feel powerful, too. I bend low, flicking my tongue. “You like this?”

She releases a kitten-like moan of pleasure, blinking, but her thighs tense again. Maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve been with a woman, but am I getting the right reaction here? I’m not sure. “You’re not uncomfortable?”

She gives a little shake of her head. “It’s…Jake never did this.” She swallows, hard. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, now I get it. Wow. I’m going to be the first to pleasure her like this? A flare of fiery heat chases down my spine at the thought of being special like that. And with a possessive growl, I realize I don’t ever want another man to touch her again. No one else besides me.

“Your dentist lover back in Georgia? No?”

She swats me on the shoulder and I dip my head low again, working my hands over her hips, down her thighs—while my mouth works a sweeter, warmer place. With every flick and motion of my tongue, Rebecca makes the most erotic little cries and it’s like they shoot into me, driving me harder. Making me want her even more.

Then her hips jackknife upward, and I feel the pulse of her pleasure against my tongue. I take firm hold of her buttocks, squeezing, urging her to ride out her release.

“Yeah, baby, that’s it,” I murmur, and slowly her hips drop back down to the mattress. “Oh, sweetness, that’s it.”

She’s breathing heavy, and I crawl up her body like a prowling bobcat until I’m positioned atop her, heavy and totally male. And my erection is also heavy and totally male as I push it greedily between her thighs.

My heart is pounding like it might explode as I settle my hips against hers, feeling the soft, curving shape of her against me. It’s hard not to feel like I could shatter her, she’s that small and delicate. But it’s part of what turns me on, too, that she’s feminine…different from me.

I prop my elbows around her on the pillows, and simply stare into those eyes of hers. That’s when it happens. This strange, hushed moment. As if the ocean just beyond the patio stops roaring; as if Rebecca herself stops breathing; as if I am caught in a timeless spell, captive to this woman.

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