She nodded.
Reaching behind her, he undid the hook, then slipped his hand into the loose cup and took her breast in his hand. She gasped his name.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Soundlessly, she shook her head.
His hand moved over her breast experimentally. It defined and reshaped. She bit her lip when his caress finally focused on her nipple. It was hard and distended even before he began fondling it. “Jesus, you’re perfect, Jade.” He continued to sweep his thumb across the rigid tip, barely touching it, eliciting chills and heat waves.
Jade, made weak by his caresses, bowed her head forward and rested it on his shoulder. She put her arms around him. Her nails sank into the supple flesh of his back.
“Jade, I want to put my mouth on you. Here.” He pressed her nipple. “Can I do that?”
She gave her consent with a small movement of her head against his shoulder.
He parted her blouse and worked down the cups of her bra. She felt the night air from the open window on her exposed skin. It felt cool against her flushed breasts. His first kiss was soft, tender, affectionate. His lips flirted with her skin. His tongue teased. He brushed the raised tip of her breast with his mustache until she thought she would go mad from the unbearable pleasure.
Then his lips drew her in and surrounded her with the hot, sweet, sucking motions of his mouth. Each gentle tug plucked corresponding chords of response deep within her womb. They were glorious, mind-boggling, compelling. Reflexively, she came up to a kneeling position, making herself more accessible. Dillon cradled her breast between his hands as though he drank from a life-giving chalice. When he withdrew his mouth, he nuzzled her with his nose and rubbed his hard cheek against her, before taking her into his mouth again.
Her clothing kept getting in his way, and it aggravated her as much as it did him. “If I slide your blouse off your shoulders, will you pull your arms out of the sleeves?” he asked hoarsely. “Please, Jade.”
She nodded.
He peeled her blouse from her shoulders and guided her arms out of the sleeves. Suddenly losing her nerve, she clasped her bra against her breasts. They gazed deeply into each other’s eyes. She noticed that a vein in Dillon’s temple was visibly ticking and that his jaw was clenched.
“Are we going to stop here?”
“I… No, I guess not.” She removed her hands, and her bra fell forward onto his lap.
“Oh, God, thank you,” he said on a deep exhalation. Using both hands, he touched her hair first, the individual features of her face, then her lips, which were swollen and rosy from his many kisses. His fingers combed down her throat, chest, and the slope of her breasts. He stared at her as though she were a miracle creation.
“Show me what you want me to do, Jade.”
Taking his face between her palms, she guided it to her breast and watched as his lips sank into her flesh. Her nipples grew stiff against his caressing tongue. His mouth gave her unbearable pleasure.
With a groan, he fell back onto the pillows, brushed her bra off his lap, and groped for the buttons of his jeans. Jade’s eyes widened with alarm.
“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to,” he explained quickly. Raising his left hand behind his head, he gripped a curving tube of the headboard. “I can’t do anything with one hand, right? But I’ve got to make room, Jade.”
His right hand worked frantically to undo the stubborn buttons. When they were unfastened, he spread his fly open, exposing only a wedge of white cotton briefs. Nevertheless, the shape and dimension of his erection was evident. Jade stared at it fearfully.
True to his word, he kept one hand on the headboard, but reached up with the other to cup her cheek. “I’m hard, yes. I’m supposed to be hard. But I’m not hard because I want to violate you, or hurt you, or prove to you that I’m physically superior.
“I’m hard because you’ve got gorgeous blue eyes that make me wish I could swim around in them. I’m hard because you’ve got terrific legs that I’ve been unable to keep my eyes off since the night we drove around in that damn limousine. I’m hard because your mouth is delicious and your breasts are sweet and I know you must be wet by now.” He grimaced from the eroticism of his own monologue. With an effort he moaned, “I don’t want to defile you, Jade. I want to make love to you.”
Forming an X over her breasts, she crossed her arms and rested her hands on her shoulders. “I know that, Dillon. In my heart, I do. But in my head—”
“Stop listening to your head,” he said on a near shout, which he immediately ameliorated. “What do you want to do, Jade? Listen to your heart. What is it saying?”
“It says I want to make love to you, too, but I’m afraid I’ll freeze when you try to penetrate me.”
He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Then I won’t even try. I knew this was going to take time. I counted on going slow. We’ll take it a step at a time, and won’t even attempt intercourse until you’re ready.”
“That’s not fair to you.”
“I’m not suffering.” She gave his lap a dubious glance. He chuckled ruefully. “Well, there’s suffering and there’s suffering. I’m going to sit up again, okay?”
When she was once again kneeling between his thighs, he slowly lowered her arms from her breasts. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered.