Levee was thin, borderline too thin, but she was still stunning. Her flat stomach guided my gaze up to small-but-full breasts overflowing the lace. Just under the fabric, I could make out the peak of her nipples, and my mouth watered to taste them.
I brushed my fingers across the swell of her cleavage. “I’m going to detour to these first. I’ll personally apologize to your * for the delay.”
A corner of her mouth twitched. “That better be one hell of an apology.”
I palmed both of her breasts. “Are you planning to stop talking any time soon?”
Arching into my touch, she gasped. “I don’t know. Are you?”
I shifted one of my hands to the bed to hold my weight as I hovered on my knees above her. “Yep. Right”—I placed a damp kiss to her chest—“now.”
Without any further warning, I popped her nipple from her bra and sealed my mouth around it.
“Shit,” she cursed with hands flying to fist my hair and hips circling up off the bed. “Ahhh,” she moaned as my tongue laved at her nipple.
Then I switched to the other before repeating the process.
Her hips continued to search the space between us for some source of friction. I could have offered her my leg, but I feared my cock would sprout arms and claw its way out of my jeans if I had to feel her riding my thigh.
With my mouth still at her breast, Levee clawed at my shirt, tugging it up my back. “Take this off.”
I sat up long enough for her to tear it over my head, but when I tried to take her breast again, a hand against my chest stopped me. My gaze flipped to hers, and much to my surprise—and excitement—Levee was a gawker too.
“Fuck,” she cursed, dragging a single fingernail over the ridges of my abs.
I had a torso full of tattoos I’d expected her to inspect for the first time, but as she pushed against my chest again, her eyes were glued to the outline of my hard-on in my jeans.
After licking her lips, she ordered, “Lie down.”
“Funny. I was just about to tell you to do the same thing.” I gently urged her down with one hand while dropping the other to the lace between her legs.
She gasped and threw her head back, grinding herself into my touch while tracing her hands up and down my stomach. “Sam,” she breathed, pausing to take my mouth in a rough kiss. “Can we speed this up?”
“We can now,” I mumbled into her mouth.
With one swift movement, I pushed her panties aside and pressed two fingers inside her drenched *. Her legs fell to the sides as she collapsed backwards on the bed.
“Yes,” she hissed, fisting the sheets.
Kneeling on the edge of the bed, I stared at her hips, which were fluidly rolling against my hand. I could have watched all night, but the memory of her breasts in my mouth was still fresh.
“Take your bra off.” I twisted my hand as punctuation.
She didn’t delay in sitting up, sliding it down her arms, then discarding it off the side of her bed. Her eyes and her smirk were confident, but she immediately pushed her hands into her hair, forcing her breasts together like some sort of bikini model. Fuck. Levee’s body was incredible, and the last thing I wanted was her trying to alter my view in any way.
One by one, I removed my fingers. Her mouth fell open in protest, but I tugged her hands from her hair and placed them around my neck.
“Don’t do that. Not to me.”
“Do what?”
I settled on my side next to her. “Try to strike a pose like I’m some cameraman looking for the perfect shot of you.”
“I didn’t,” she huffed.
Gripping the back of her neck, I dragged her mouth up to mine and swallowed her lie. “Yes, you did, Designer Shoes. But I’m not here for a photo shoot. I’m here for the real thing.”
At the familiar nickname, her eyes lit.
“I’m not perfect, and I’d really appreciate if we could pretend you aren’t, either, while I have my fingers inside you.”
She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, holding it so long that it became unnerving. Finally, those whiskey browns opened, emanating freedom with every blink.