Mister O

Yeah, that part, too. Especially that part.

Another thrust of her hips, and that’s all the kissing foreplay I can handle. A profound need crashes into me. The need to touch her everywhere, to kiss every inch of her body, to know her. I move down the bed and dip my thumbs into the sides of her panties. At the same time, she lifts up her hips.

My breath catches as she does that. It’s such a small move in the scheme of things, but it tells me everything. She wants me to undress her as badly as I want to be the one to take off all her clothes.

My mind hooks on to something she said at the Italian restaurant, something she said she liked. Seeing you undress for me. Her voice plays in my head, and I hear those words in a new way. In a way that threads deeper into my heart, that means more than getting naked for someone. That means this is the person you want to strip bare for.

As I tug her panties to her knees, then her ankles, then off, I know with a bone-deep certainty that Harper is it for me. The road starts and ends here—with this magnificent beauty in a cape in my bed after midnight.

Kneeling at her feet, I slide off her shoes, circle my hands around her ankles, and gaze up at her face. Her lips are parted, and her blue eyes hold mine hostage.

“Hi, handsome,” she whispers.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Our voices sound different. She has to hear it, too. Has to feel it like I do. I bend to her calf and press a kiss there. When I raise my face, she gasps from that little touch.

“Harper,” I say, my voice raspy.

“Yeah?”

“Want to know something I’ve learned about what I like?” I ask, repeating the words she said to me that night.

“Tell me.”

“Seeing you undress for me.”

“Oh God,” she moans, and I spread her legs wide, part them in a V, and then I bury my face between her thighs.

There is nothing quite like that moan on the first lick.

Nothing.

Her sounds fall on my ears like the most gorgeous song, and I love that she’s learned how awesome oral sex is, because I can’t resist licking her. I want to fuck her so badly, but this is my favorite thing in the world. Going down on my girl. Tasting her sweetness on my tongue, my lips, my face.

I love how slick she feels, and how much wetter she gets the faster I go. The more I flick my tongue across her flesh, the louder she moans, the wilder she writhes, until she thrashes under me. She doesn’t even like fingers—all she wants is tongue and lips. She becomes this desperate, frenzied woman, her hands clutching at my hair, her legs widening then wrapping around my head.

I look up at her, and she watches my eyes dance between her legs, and then I do the thing she loves most. I dip my hands under her ass, and cup those luscious cheeks as I kiss her like crazy.

Oh God.

Yes!

That.

Oh my fucking God.

I squeeze and knead her ass as I kiss her *, and she’s in paradise. I grab those cheeks harder, spreading them a little bit with my thumbs, and she bucks up into my mouth. I love her ass, and her ass loves me. We fit in every way, especially when she curls her hands tight around my head as if she’s never letting go, and rocks into my face until she loses control and comes undone on a scream.

I slow my moves, letting her savor the aftereffects. Wiping my hand across my mouth, I crawl up her body, so ready to feel her in a new way. Her cape is all twisted around her, the tie yanked to her shoulder now. I quickly untie it, freeing her.

“I thought about you all day today. All night. All day yesterday,” I whisper, as I rub the head of my dick against her slick heat.

“You have to know it’s the same for me,” she says, reaching for my hips, pulling me closer.

Electricity crackles down my body as I start to push in. I fight back the urge to tell her everything I feel. To let her know that this isn’t just my first time without a condom.

That it’s another first.

A bigger first. One that means so much more than the purity of pleasure. One that could tip over my future and turn it into a whole new color.

I ease into her.

“Harper,” I groan. “This is . . .”

Words fail me. There just aren’t any to convey how immense it feels to slide inside her. She wraps her legs around me, and, like that, I fill her completely. I brace myself above her as the sheer intensity of the pleasure ripples through me. I stare down at her face—her lips falling open, her blue eyes glossy as she looks into mine. God, this is almost too much. But I crave it like oxygen, this connection to her.

I thrust, and she rises up. I stroke into her, and she takes me deeper. We find a perfect rhythm, wrapped in silence for the first time. For two talkers, we’re speechless, and I can’t think of anything else to say. I can only feel. The heat of her body. The beating of her heart. The softness of her breath on my face as I lower to my forearms. She hooks her ankles tighter, and I pump harder, deeper.