He pushed her hair off of her shoulder and dropped his lips to the bare skin there, sliding one hand from her lower back to the top of her zipper, then pausing for a moment, waiting for a sign that she wanted him to undress her. She tilted her neck to the side, to give him better access to her throat, and he dropped his lips to her pounding pulse as he pulled the zipper down, the soft hissing noise making his blood flood south where an eager part of him stiffened in anticipation.
They wouldn’t be having sex tonight. Even if she offered it, he would gently—and dolefully—refuse, because he didn’t want her to give away her virginity impulsively and regret it later. He wanted her to be sure, even if it meant depriving himself for a little longer.
Sliding his lips over the skin of her throat, he pushed the dress over her shoulders and down her arms, listening for the elusive whisper of fabric pooling around her feet. When he heard it, he raised his head to look at her, cutting his eyes to hers, and holding them as he found her fingers by her sides and lifted them to the lapels of his suit jacket. Understanding what he wanted, she pushed the jacket from his shoulders and it slipped down his arms to join her dress on the floor.
Answering the question in her eyes, he looked purposely down at his shirt, reaching for her hands again and placing her trembling fingers on the first button, which she unbuttoned carefully.
Step by step, he taught her how to undress a man, how to bare his body to hers. It was simultaneously terrifying and deeply arousing to take the lead with her tonight. Terrifying because it was so much responsibility to be someone’s first everything, and arousing because he was the first. She’d never been with anyone but him, which was so hot he had to force himself to stop thinking about it or his body would have expectations that their relationship wasn’t yet ready to meet.
As her finger trailed down the length of skin between the first and second buttons, he gasped softly, holding his breath, watching as her lips swept upward with a small, teasing grin. He’d been undressed by dozens of women in his life, more times than he could count. But Elise’s inexperience made tonight feel different. Hyper aware that everything was new for her, he found his own senses were sharper and his skin more sensitive—almost like it was his first time too, by proxy.
Reaching up, she smoothed his shirt over his shoulders, her palms gliding over the muscles in his arm and sending goosebumps down his spine. His shirt caught on his wrists, and he reached to unbutton it, but Elise intercepted his hand, pressing her lips to his fingers before unbuttoning the cuff on one sleeve and then the other. His shirt whooshed softly to the floor and unable to wait any longer, Preston let his eyes fall to her breasts.
Covered only with a black satin bra, the demi-cups overflowing with her flesh which was white in the moonlight, his chest clenched with something profound—something like pain or wonder, or pure, undiluted gratitude. Sliding his eyes back up to hers, he reached around her back and unclasped her bra, but left it in place so she could decide if she was ready to let him see her.
Breathing audibly in soft, quick pants, she dropped her eyes to his chest and reached forward to press her hands to his pecs, which he flexed reflexively. As she touched him, her bra straps drooped down her arms, catching in the pocket of her bent elbows. The black, satin cups clung precariously to her breasts. Slowly, and with as much respect and gentleness as possible, Preston reached for the straps and smoothed them the rest of the way down her arms, watching as her breasts were revealed in the moonlight—perfect white globes with dark pink areoles and taut, puckered nipples.
She dropped her hands from his chest to her sides so that the lingerie fell soundlessly to the ground, then raised her eyes to his. Even in the dim light, he could see a mix of emotions in them—her bravery, her fears, her arousal, her need for reassurance.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, lifting his eyes as he cupped her face with his hands. With one step he was close enough to feel her nipples graze his bare chest, and his voice was raspy and low as he murmured, “You’re so beautiful, Elise. So, so beautiful.”
Her lips tilted up just a little at the corners and a small, soft sound of pleasure escaped from the back of her throat as he leaned down to kiss her, pulling her flush against him, the warm, pliant flesh of her breasts flattened against his chest for the very first time as his tongue slipped into her mouth. With his hands on her hips, he backed up to the foot of his bed, lying back and pulling her down with him.