Hold On

And I was good at giving it.

So when his hands lifted to the top buttons of his shirt, I held his eyes and put my hands to the front of my thighs, curling my fingers in.

The second I did, his hands dropped from his shirt and he took the single step he needed to be in my space.

“No, baby,” he murmured.

Again…

No?

He put his hands to my waist and slid them down, whispering, “I know you aren’t gonna make me sit across from you in that dress all through dinner and then take away my opportunity to take it off you.”

My breath caught and I felt a flood of wet between my legs.

I might know how to give it good.

But Merry knew how to give it better.

He slid his hands back up along my sides as he held my gaze. Then he bent in.

My lips parted in preparation, but his just brushed mine before they trailed along my cheek, my jaw. He touched his tongue to my ear, causing a shiver to tremble through me before he lifted his head and caught my eyes.

It was then he watched me as he glided his hands back to my waist, down to my hips. They didn’t clench in. They pressed in, lifting up, taking the silky, stretchy fabric with them so it slithered up my legs.

Oh God. That felt good. Good enough that I had to hang on or I was going to go down.

Instead, I decided to concentrate on something, so I lifted my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

He dipped in again and gave me a short, wet kiss, a touch of the tongues.

I got one button undone and was down to the next as he slid my dress all the way up to my hips.

I was breathing heavier as I got the next button undone. That was when he moved his mouth to my neck, his hands back, down, up, and in the hem of my dress that was now at my ass. Then he pushed his hands down, and cupped my ass as his teeth nipped the skin of my neck.

Oh yes.

More good.

I gave up on the buttons because I had no choice. My legs were failing. I curled my hands in his shirt and leaned into his body, pressing my breasts to his chest.

He moved his mouth to my ear.

“Lift your arms, Cherie.”

I uncurled my fingers and lifted my arms.

Merry drew back and slid the dress slowly the rest of the way, exposing most of me because I wasn’t wearing a bra, though I had on a lacy black thong.

His eyes dropped to me as he tossed the dress aside. Then his hands came back at the sides of my upper ribs and slid down as his gaze roamed.

God, he didn’t even need to touch me.

God, I’d never gone this slow. Never been this turned on, not with virtually nothing happening.

I’d never wanted something so badly.

No, someone.

“Merry,” I whispered, and even I could hear the need dripping from his name.

His eyes cut back to mine and I couldn’t beat back my gasp at the hungry blaze I saw burning deep before his fingers dug into my flesh, lifting.

I hopped up as he brought me to him, shifting. I curled my legs around his hips and he put a knee in the bed, his mouth coming to mine.

My back met bed as his mouth opened over mine and his tongue slid inside.

From then, it didn’t go any less slow. Merry guiding, me following his lead, we touched. We kissed. We tasted. We trailed. I got his shirt off him. He separated long enough to rid himself of his shoes and socks. He gently dragged my panties down my legs. I went after his belt and held his gaze as he lay on his back in the bed and bucked his hips while I pulled his trousers and boxers down his.

Naked, it didn’t go any faster. It wasn’t about experience. Feeding the need. Taking what you wanted. Getting into your head and getting lost in the feeling.

It also wasn’t exploring.

It was memorizing.

Basking.

Worshiping.

I was so into him, it was unreal. Listening. Watching. What a touch would do. The trail of my tongue. The nip of my teeth. The stroke of my hand.