She nods with a few quick bounces of her head, but her eyes don’t meet mine. They’re on my chest, moving between my piercings before dropping down to my abs. I watch her eyes as they devour my body, and a frantic desire blazes beneath my skin.
I need to feel her on me. All over me.
“Give me your hand.” I hold my hand just inches from her fist, giving her the choice to obey.
She places it in mine, and the moisture on her palm is the evidence of her suffering. I smile and bring it to my lips, placing a kiss against her clammy skin. Unable to deny myself her taste for a second longer, I drag my tongue from the heel of her palm to her middle finger and up the pads before slipping the tip into my mouth. My eyes fight to stay open against the salty taste that floods my senses. She groans and circles her hips, grinding into my ass. Fuck, but her writhing body below me, held down by my weight, is so damn hot.
Kissing the pad of her finger, I pull her hand down, controlling the slow pace of her touch against my neck, my clavicle, and finally my chest over the crashing throb of my heart. I release her hand to give her back control.
She studies my expression, asking for permission. I nod, suck in a deep breath, and hold it. Waiting.
Finally, after what seems like forever, she moves. Her touch glides along my pecs, alternating between tracing the pattern of my tattoos and marking her own path. Some passes are gentle and others she allows her nails to drag, raising goose bumps on my arms. Her fingers close around the barbell of my nipple and tug. I groan and drop my head. She tugs again.
Harder. Make it hurt.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but in an effort to keep things a few steps shy of perverted, I lock them down. We’ve come so far, and telling her that I want her to hurt me will destroy the progress we’ve made.
Once she’s thoroughly explored my chest, she lays her hand back down on the bed as if she’s waiting for the next command.
Hope flares in my chest. She’s making this so easy. For the first time I feel . . . normal. I could get used to this.
I push up on my knees and shimmy down her body. “Don’t forget to speak up.” She nods, understanding from last time that if I’m going beyond her comfort zone she needs to let me know.
I hook the elastic waistband of her pants and pull them down. She lifts her ass and holds up one leg at a time until she’s lying in nothing but a pair of lace panties.
“Black. My favorite color.” I run my knuckles up the inside of her thigh and allow my fingers to rest between her legs. “As pretty as these are, baby.”—I pass my knuckles up, down, and up again—“I’m thinking what’s underneath is much prettier.”
She bites her lip and presses against my hand.
“Good girl.” I tug her panties down her thighs and get my first full visual of her completely naked. The air rushes out of my lungs, and I blink against the assaulting wave of arousal that hits me hard. “Fuckin’ look at you.”
Her bare pale skin beckons my touch. I run my hands from her ankles to her thighs, reading her resulting goose bumps like Braille. I record to memory the places I touch that make her tense and the others that make her melt into the bed.
My mouth waters, a familiar feeling when I hook up with a chick, but this time it’s not the nausea-accompanied saliva that rushes to my mouth. This is hunger, pure, simple, animalistic starvation.
I pull her leg up and rest it against my shoulder, exposing her completely. She moans drops her head to the side. A low rolling growl rumbles in my chest, and I lick my lips. Everything about her from the tips of her hair to her toes is so damn gorgeous. “I was right. Beautiful.”
Her breath catches in her throat. “Thank you,” she says in a reverent and sincere whisper.
I kiss the inside of her calf once, twice, and then move to her inner thigh. She squirms and arches her back off the bed.
“Easy, baby.” My fingers dig in to the flesh of her hip holding her down.
She groans, seeming frustrated, but nods, again, suffering for my pleasure. It makes me wonder what else she’d do for me, what lengths she’d go to if she knew it’d make me happy.
My mind whirls with visions, our bodies slamming together, violent crashes of skin on skin. I pinch my eyes closed, pushing back the thoughts and pulling in the peace. I won’t do that to her. I’m in control. I’m in total control.
I open my eyes to find her staring up at me, waiting.
“You good?”
“Yeah.” I continue to caress her skin and move further down until my shoulders lie between her thighs. “More than good.”
Hooking her other leg over my shoulder, I dip down and run my mouth back and forth against her. Her heels dig into my back and she lifts herself to me in offering.
I push her hips back down onto the bed. “Still.”
She relaxes and her legs fall open. I dip forward, take the first taste and groan in satisfaction.
Her legs clamp tight around my shoulders. “Oh my . . .”