She stood trembling, her body like a leaf being buffeted by the winds of her own desire. She’d never felt this way before, excited, exhilarated, out of control.
He cupped her cheek, pressed a kiss to her lips, his large hand slipping down to cradle her neck and drag her against him. His lips devoured her cheek, her chin, the rioting pulse in her collarbone, sending the unbearable need darting into her sex, her breasts, and everywhere his mouth conquered.
He wrapped an arm around her limp body, tugging her against the hard line of his, and the thick evidence of his arousal pressed into her quivering belly through their clothes.
His hands were frantic but gentle as he tugged off her shirt, skimmed his fingers under the cotton camisole. Her bra released with a sharp snap and he drew away to watch her reaction as his thumbs found her aching nipples beneath the soft cotton. The tight peaks swelled and hardened as he played with them—circling and plucking and making them ache even more.
‘I need to see you,’ he groaned.
She nodded, not sure if he was asking a question or making a demand. But, before she had a chance to second-guess herself, he had stripped off her bra and camisole. And she stood naked from the waist up.
‘Trop belle,’ he murmured, the reverent growl making her feel truly beautiful for the first time in her life.
He cupped the underside of one breast in his callused palm and then bowed his dark head to capture the ripe, throbbing peak in his lips.
She sunk her fingers into his hair, the sensations so exquisite as he suckled her that a raw moan broke from her lips.
He teased and tortured her, circling the areola with his tongue, nipping at the swollen peak then drawing it deep into his mouth, the hot suction driving her wild. Her moans became sobs, her fingers fisting in the silky locks of his hair to draw him closer, demanding he give her more. The fire sparked and sizzled in her sex, threatening to consume her.
‘Please... I need...’ What did she need? She didn’t even know.
‘Tell me what is good for you,’ he rasped in her ear, hugging her trembling body close, notching the ridge of his erection against the melting spot between her thighs.
The heat swelled and strengthened, but not enough...she needed to feel him, his strength, his hardness, filling the empty spaces inside her.
‘I need you naked too,’ she managed, shocking herself with the explicit request.
He chuckled, the sound harsh. ‘Mais oui, Cara.’
Placing a last kiss on the crest of her breast, he drew away to strip off his shirt.
His chest was as broad and strong and magnificent as the rest of him. She devoured the sight of him, so bold and unashamed in the yellow glow from the ancient light fixture.
The defined muscles of his pecs and the brown discs of his nipples were scattered with hair that arrowed down in a t
hin line bisecting the ridges of his abdominal muscles. She folded her arms over her breasts, trying to hold onto her sanity as he unbuttoned his trousers. Her heart slammed into her throat and pounded harder in her sex as he kicked them off and then lowered the stretchy black boxer shorts.
The massive erection sprang free from the nest of hair at his groin.
She’d never seen a naked man in his physical prime before, and certainly not one who was fully aroused.
She swallowed heavily, unable to take her eyes off the hard shaft, which thrust up towards his belly button, so long and thick.
How on earth was that supposed to fit inside her? But, even as the panic rippled through her, her sex moistened and softened, the muscles tensing and releasing in anticipation.
She didn’t know if she could take something so huge, but she wanted to try.
‘Cara?’ he murmured as he nudged her chin up, forcing her gaze to meet his. ‘Ça va?’ he asked, the flash of concern crossing his face making her heart thud against her ribs.
She nodded. ‘Can I...? Can I touch it?’
Creases appeared in the tanned skin at the corners of his eyes, the dark depths sparkling with amusement as his lips quirked in a curious half smile. ‘Of course—you do not need to ask permission.’
She nodded again, cursing her inexperience. She didn’t want him to know he was her first. Didn’t want him to suspect what a big deal this was to her. Because it was not a big deal to him.
Reaching out, she touched his erection. Her fingertip glided along the rigid length, exploring the velvet softness of his skin, the hardness beneath.
The erection jumped against her palm, thrilling her. He let out a rough groan as her thumb glided across the broad tip, gathering the bead of moisture that seeped from the slit.