She was pretty sure it mirrored her own.
“David,” she said, hoping she sounded surer than she felt. The butterflies were back in her stomach. Senseless creatures, they had no sense of timing.
“Shoshana,” he answered, his tone serious. His fingers slid away from her nipple, but only to untangle from her shirt and cup her jaw. She bit her lip, loving the feel of his hands on her skin.
“I know we said slow, but--”
“Yeah,” he said, doing that thing with his hips that pressed him against her, reminding her that she wasn’t the only one who wanted this. “Maybe not this slow?”
“We can talk about speed later. First, maybe I should show you the bedroom?” she said, arching her neck so that she could kiss his lips again, hard. When he lifted his head from her kiss she grinned, unable to feel anything but triumphant.
“I think I would like that.”
Sixteen
It took longer than it should have to get to the bedroom. He kept stopping her, his lips seeking, his fingers exploring, his tongue plundering her mouth in ways she had never thought to hope for. By the time she made it up the stairs, hand dashing at light switches as she went, then down the hall to the bedroom, there was a path of forgotten clothes and unfortunate knick-knacks in their wake. She’d reassure him later about the vase that had been on the hall table. She’d always hated it. It had been a gift from a friend with terrible taste years ago.
She leaned into the doorjamb of the master suite, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he bent over her, his mouth tracing a line of fire down her bare chest. His teeth teased her breasts through the lace of the bra and she had a distant thought that next time she was going to wear a skirt, because the jeans felt so confining that she knew she was going to scream by the time she got a chance to take them off.
But then, it didn’t matter because he was falling to his knees in front of her, his fingers finding the button and zipper of the jeans, his eyes looking up the line of her body to her face.
Oh, fuck, those eyes.
Shoshana groaned, her fingers tangling in his hair, her other hand closing over his, not stopping him, no, but he laced his fingers through hers for the briefest moment, turning her hand over and placing a gentle, open mouthed kiss on her palm before releasing her hand so that he could go back to the work of getting her jeans undone. And then she was feeling cool air on her skin and he was peeling the jeans down her legs and she was helping him, kicking them off and letting him position her legs so that he could kneel again between them, his fingers caressing her skin and his mouth--
--oh his mouth.
“David,” she breathed when she felt his hot breath through the thin fabric of the lacy underwear. She wondered if he would care that she didn’t bother to wax--sure she groomed, she wasn’t a heathen, but she’d never gotten the allure of completely bare. And then it didn’t matter because his lips were kissing her thighs.
“You have the most beautiful body,” he said quietly, and she shivered in the semi-dark hallway.
“Please,” she said, because if he kept talking, she was going to be completely lost, “put your mouth on me.”
His smile was pure male, his fingers tugging at the hem of the panties, pulling them gently down over her hips. And then she was open to him and he was opening her, watching her face as he put his mouth to her body, his lips savoring, tasting as though she were precious. Her head fell back against the wood door frame and she groaned long and loud as he closed his mouth over her. His fingers teased, dipping inside her wetness, painting her clit with the evidence of her arousal. Her fingers were in his hair, holding him tight against her, and she was aware that he was urging one of her legs over his shoulder.
Fuck, where did he learn how to do this, she thought distantly as his lips closed over her clit and he sucked. She gasped, her head jerking in a nod of approval and he paid attention, redoubling his efforts. Shoshana wondered if she should tell him how amazing it felt, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find the words at this moment. Her fingers jerked in his hair and his eyes flicked to hers. She wanted to say something, maybe make a joke to lighten the mood, but the look in his eyes was too much. She groaned, her hips moving against his mouth, offering herself to him.
His fingers worked her, building a steady rhythm as his mouth did delicious things. She reached above her, grabbing the door frame because she needed the support of something solid. He did something with his tongue, moaning against her skin, and she felt it--the first stirrings of orgasm. It was going to happen. He was using that perfect mouth, the same mouth that held her name, that held so many sacred words, and he was going to make her cum with it. She gasped, feeling as though she were clawing through deep water to reach air.
David seemed to take this as encouragement, she felt his pleasure at her reaction in the way he was touching her. He redoubled his efforts and she shook her head, the movement feeling jerky and disjointed. She fought to speak, to form words, but it was so hard to think when his fingers were still working and she was close,so close, but no, no not now.
“--David, stop.”
* * *
Of course he stopped. His hands stilled, his head lifted, and he licked his lips, absently, then again more slowly, because he could still taste her, and it was something he wanted to savor. His fingers went to her hips, holding her steady against the door frame.
“Shoshana?” His arm curled around her thigh, her leg was still slung over his shoulder and it was taking a lot of his self-control to refrain from turning his head to bite that delicate skin, “What’s wrong?”
She took another ragged breath and her hand fell away from the door, fluttering down to her chest, then down over her bare abdomen. Her fingers traced his face, cool against his heated skin. Her thumb swiped gently below the swell of his bottom lip and he turned his head, his lips closing over the digit. She’d wiped away a bit of the evidence of her own arousal. His teeth caught the swell of her thumb and she gasped something that could have been a laugh. Or maybe his name. Then her fingers were under his chin, urging him up.
David found himself rising, releasing her thigh so that she was standing on her own two feet, his fingers sliding up her body as he stood. By the time he was standing, looking down into her liquid green eyes, his fingers were slipping behind her, finding the hooks of the bra and releasing it. Shoshana helped him, shouldering out of the scrap of fabric and letting it fall forgotten to the floor. He traced her face, much as she had done for him. Her teeth caught her bottom lip and tugged, her look almost self-deprecating.
“Why did you want me to stop?” he asked, because the last thing he wanted to do was stop. He wanted his mouth on her while she came, and then when she’d ridden out the orgasm, he wanted to make her cum again.
She laughed and her bare breasts brushed his chest. He realized he’d never actually taken off the shirt, even though it had been gaping open since the sofa, so he shrugged out of it, annoyed at the distraction. Shoshana’s eyes traveled over the planes and angles of his chest and he felt the sudden urge to straighten, to do something ridiculous like flex his muscles for her approval. Her hand touched his belly and he felt his muscles tighten in response. His own arousal was becoming more difficult to ignore, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself.
“Would you believe,” she said, her fingers sliding upwards, working through the thatch of hair on his chest, “that I realized I was about to cum?”