His hand was snaking up the back of my shirt, and I was pressed against that hard chest. His mouth was all over mine, and this boy, he had kissing down.
No way was I going to be able to resist this.
The lights were blazing, a nice change from all the dark of our first encounter. I wanted to see him, every muscle and plane. I wanted to get lost, let the world drop away, not think about the hard conversations ahead.
His lips made a trail down my jaw to my neck. He moved his hand from my hair to my waist, where it flirted with the hem of my shirt.
I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling his touch on me, the sensations spiraling up into a frenzy. I didn’t want to push anything, just let things take their course. He owned me in the most intimate way, his grain of sand taking over my belly, and he didn’t even know.
His hands moved up, finding the cups of my bra. “I see you went back to wearing underwear,” he said against my collarbone.
“Didn’t want to shock the southerners,” I said.
His fingers moved to the band in the back and I felt it loosen as he unfastened the hook. His mouth found mine again, and my knees wobbled. What was so different about this boy that I really felt things? There was no awkwardness or disappointment or an urge to hurry it up or tell him what to do. I just fell in.
Something slid down one arm, then the other, and with a little gasp against his mouth, I realized he’d pulled my bra off from underneath the T-shirt. It hit the floor with a quiet thump.
“Talent,” I whispered against his mouth.
“My fingers know what they like,” he said back.
My nipples felt super sensitive against the shirt. He broke the kiss and leaned down, covering my breast with his mouth outside the fabric.
His breath was hot and I clutched at his head, feeling the urgency sizzling through me, more potent than ever before. I wondered if it had to do with the baby, because suddenly I was crazy with it. I could not wait. I needed him now.
I jerked his shirt from the waistband of his jeans. I wanted my hands on him. The hot band of muscle cording up his ribs fed my frenzy.
I reached his chest and reacquainted myself with the hard pecs. I pictured him working out to maintain this gold standard of man chest and my knees weakened a little more.
His breathing against my breast had gotten faster. His hands fumbled with the snap of my jeans, less agile now that the pace was moving from leisurely to breakneck.
I kicked at my high-tops, groaning when they were too stuck to come off easily. Chance noticed my problem and scooped me up to plant me on the bed. “I’ll do the honors,” he said, and untied my shoes.
He pulled off the sneakers and my socks, his palms wrapped around my ankles to smooth out where the pressure had left a mark.
I relaxed into the bed. The only thing really exposed on me was my belly where my jeans were unbuttoned. The air was cool and I pressed my hand there. I should tell him now, before this went any further.
Then his mouth was on my hand, nudging it out of the way. He kissed his way around my belly button. He paused only to say, “I’d forgotten you were an outie.”
He peeled my jeans over my hips and slid them down my legs. My panties were pink, a match for my hair. Chance paused over me. “I like you like this,” he said, his eyes raking my body. “T-shirt, no bra, lots of leg, and pretty little underwear.”
He bent down and snagged the lace band in his teeth. He tugged on it for a second, then said, “I want to tear these off you.”
I didn’t say anything, just watched him look at me. He nibbled along my hip and waist, working his way up. He nudged the shirt aside and continued along my ribs. Then he exposed a breast and his lips in that tender spot sent me over a precipice and I cried out, so desperate for him now that nothing was going to distract me.
I heard his shoes hit the floor, but this was distant compared to the hot wetness sending spiraling waves of pleasure through my body. I lay flat on my back, eyes closed, just letting each sensation crash over me.
Chance took his time, bringing the pace back down. His hand slid up my thigh and I opened for him. He teased the satin aside and slid a finger against me. When he slipped inside, my body lifted to meet him with another cry.
“Mmm, keep making those sweet sounds,” he said.
I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. Every stroke of his hand was another intense push toward the peak I was headed for. I felt tears coming from my eyes, the emotion was so intense.
He moved back down, nipping with little bites as he made his way along my belly. The panties came down and he tossed them. He spread my thighs, and I didn’t resist, letting him work me with both his fingers and his mouth.