“Feels good,” I mumbled back.
“Let go of those negative thoughts I feel tumbling through you,” he said, lifting up and looking deep into my eyes. “Seriously, Cate, your heart is banging too hard and your pulse is racing with negativity. This isn’t stressful; it’s all good. Me, you, and no shirts.”
I felt my grin grow wide, and I didn’t even turn my face.
“I’ve wanted this for a while, a long while,” he said, and began kissing me again.
My hand trembled as it finally landed on his bare back. It roamed all over his hard muscles, my nails lightly scratching his smooth skin.
“Harder,” he said on a moan, and I obliged.
I felt him slide my bra strap down, and his hand caressed my tattoo. It made me glance at his chest, and when I saw my name, nerves sprouted like weeds all over again.
My name is on his chest.
I couldn’t think on it for long because suddenly my bra was off and my nipple was in Blane’s mouth, and my pelvis was rocketing off the bed.
“Oh my God,” I think I said. I couldn’t be totally sure, but it sounded something like that.
As he sucked and licked and nipped, I moaned, loud moans I didn’t think I was capable of making. Porno-worthy moans. I rolled my eyes at myself, but I couldn’t stop the moans if I tried.
His fingers wrapped behind my head and tangled in my curls. He held me close, his thumb leisurely grazing the nape of my neck. I didn’t think this was an erogenous zone, but let me tell you—it is.
Blane’s lips left mine, but they didn’t leave my skin as he slid down my body. He nipped at my collar while he plucked at my nipple with his finger. Then he blew warm breath on the spot, causing my nipple to pucker even harder. He sucked on one and then the other before traveling farther down.
I wasn’t sure he should be going down there like that on me, and I shrieked out his name on a moan.
He stopped tracing my belly button with his tongue and looked up. “You know I’m a Southern boy?”
“Blane, seriously, I’ve never done that.”
“Even better. I’ll be a perfect Southern gentleman.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt him sliding my pants down my thighs and pulling off my boots so he could finish the job.
He crawled back up my body, planting a gentle kiss on my mouth, but his lips didn’t stay there long. They trailed over my stomach, latching onto my hips, and caressing my sensitive skin while holding me steady with his hand. I was hot and cold, my skin on fire from his touch yet chilled where he abandoned. His tongue continued to swirl over one hip while he lightly squeezed the other, although my hip bones weren’t prominent like other girls’. I had hips, soft ones, and Blane’s lips and fingers were worshiping them.
Pushing aside my own insecurities, I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended I was the supermodel he made me feel like I was.
I blew out a long breath as the tip of his tongue neared the juncture of my thighs, spreading warmth to where I was already blazing. His breath followed the wetness of his tongue, coming out in pants along my prickled skin. I tried to still myself, but my hips rose and reached for his mouth.
“Oh my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” I whispered, ashamed and more than a little embarrassed.
“I liked that a whole hell of a lot, Cate,” he said just before his tongue landed on my hot spot.
He swiped over my clit, and I’d never felt such sensation in my life. My spine tingled and my toes curled with tension. His finger entered me, hitting another spot, this one inside me, and when he flicked it, every last inch of me shot off the bed. The G-spot.
My legs went rigid as his tongue made love to my clitoris—teasing, tormenting, and testing my patience. I wanted it harder and rougher. I needed it slower, to last longer. I craved it all.
I turned my head toward the pillow as my knees began to shake, and my hair fell over my face. A blast of exhilaration hit me, and I screamed Blane’s name as my orgasm ran wild through my body.
His tongue rode out the waves rippling through me, caressing each one out of me, and lapping up my orgasm until I finally lay spent and happy on the bed. He crawled back up, keeping his weight on his forearm, and lifted his finger to his mouth. He licked it partially clean and then brought it to my lips.
“Open,” he said, and I did. Wanton and desperate, I opened wide and licked his finger clean of my own juices.
And I loved every fucking second. Like a whore in a movie.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Too embarrassed to share my thoughts, I shook my head. Turning my face away, I sought refuge in the pillow again, thankful my hair provided cover.
“Huh-uh.” Blane gently turned me to face him. “What’s wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like? Did I hurt you?”
He frowned at me, making little crinkles form beside his eyes. Using his free hand, he shoved his hair behind his ear, and since it was damp with sweat, it stuck.
I shook my head again.