Casey hesitated. “I guess we have a little while, still . . .”
She took that as a green light, drawing his mouth back to hers. And no matter his concerns, he was still stiff when she cupped her hand between them. He moaned against her lips, and his hips pressed him harder along her palm.
She worried he’d halt her when she went for his belt, but he didn’t. Once the buckle was freed and she was fussing with the button of his fly, he surprised her. Edged her hand away and did the job himself, then pushed his jeans low on his hips. He led her back to his cock, wrapping her fingers around him through his shorts. He made a sound, a pained little sigh, as she stroked him, then put his mouth to her neck once again, kissing roughly between hungry breaths.
“You feel good,” she whispered.
“So do you. Just tell me where I can touch you. Please. I fucking love your body.”
She blushed, hot with nerves and pleasure. “I’m not sure. I guess, wherever you like, and I’ll just tell you if it’s too much. Just . . . just through my clothes, for now.” Only one other time in her life had she felt this insecure about being naked before a man, and that had been with James. Though the circumstances—and indeed her physical flaws—couldn’t be more different.
“Your breasts?”
They weren’t as oversensitive as they had been, though the thought still gave her pause. “You can try, if you’re gentle. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
His hand slid from her collarbone to her breast, cupping, nothing more. The heat of him alone sent a shockwave through her, tensing her body atop the covers and her fingers around his cock.
“Too much?”
She shook her head, managed a nearly noiseless, “No.”
He offered a soft squeeze, and pleasure bloomed, if shyly.
“That’s nice.”
“Good. You feel nice.” His touch echoed his words, full of reverence and care and curiosity. She settled into the caresses, letting the last of her worry melt away against him.
Her own hand had gone still on his cock, and she could feel his hips flexing, aching for more but not forcing it. She gave him a long, light stroke, reveling in his reaction. His entire body tensed, then softened, breath coming quicker. She offered a slow pull, squeezing him tighter and earning a moan.
“Fuck, it’s hot.” He stripped his shirt clean away. His skin was fair, flushed pink here and there, just as she’d imagined.
“Here,” he breathed, and reached between them to push the front of his shorts down and release his bare cock into her hand. His skin was hot and smooth, flesh hard. Her body responded, hunger rousing deep in her belly. Everything intensified as he cupped her breast once more—his sounds, his caresses, every muscle. Those hips pushed him deep into each of her strokes, mimicking sex, setting her on fire.
“Casey.”
“Too much?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Can I take your pants off?”
She hesitated. “I feel a little weird about my body. It’s so different, since the baby. I’m not saying no, just—”
“Would you feel better if we got under the covers, maybe?”
She considered it, nodded. “Yeah.”
They wrestled their way beneath the blanket, and she did feel more secure, more protected, as they pulled it up to their armpits.
Casey got his jeans kicked away, and when his hands went to her waistband, her fly, she didn’t stop him. Let him ease her corduroys down her thighs, then pushed them the rest of the way off with her toes. She was okay with her legs, but the tee was staying on. Even in the dark, even under the covers, even with this man . . . she wasn’t there yet. Maybe especially with this man. The stakes hadn’t ever felt so high with a guy before.
You’ve never been with one who treats you like this one does. Who treated her like a grown woman, instead of some lost girl in need of rescue or exploitation.