He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. He moved them slowly, sensuously, taking his time so that he could soak in every sensation, each tiny movement of her mouth against his, of her body pressed to him. He wanted to remember this, not just for a while, but forever.
He ran his hands up and down her body as they kissed, enjoying every luscious curve and flat plane. She was perfect. She’d lived in his mind so long as the idea of beauty that he worshiped every part of her.
For so long, that worship had occurred from afar, only in his dreams. Now he had the chance to explore every part of her with his hands, his mouth, his fingers and tongue. He wasn’t about to take that chance for granted. He planned to take his time and commit every detail of her luscious body to memory, no matter how tiny.
Their kisses deepened and he wrapped his arms around Abby, pulling her close to him. His cock was tight and throbbing against the constraints of his jeans. He wanted nothing more than to rip them off and set that monster free– but he forced himself to slow down. There was all that discovery to do. He wanted to savor it.
He pulled back and planted kisses down the side of her jaw, and then trailed them slowly down her neck. She smelled amazing, like vanilla and strawberries. It made him wonder how delicious she was going to be when he finally got to taste her.
“God, you feel so good,” he groaned. “You smell so good, you taste so good. Is there anything about you that’s not fucking amazing?”
She steadied her ragged panting breaths and then replied, “There might be. But I haven’t found it yet.”
They both laughed, but his laughter was cut off low in his throat when she reached between them and took hold of his dick. He couldn’t feel each and every move of her hand because she grasped him over the thick denim fabric of his pants. But he could feel enough. Oh, fuck, yeah. He could feel enough.
She moved her hand up and down on his fabric clad shaft and gave a light moan. “God, you’re big,” she gasped.
He reached behind him, groping for something to hold onto so that he wouldn’t topple over. That’s how lightheaded he felt. He didn’t know whether it was more the movement of her hand or the sound of her words that made him so unsteady on his feet. It could’ve been either, they were both fucking hot.
When he had his balance back once again, he took a small step forward so that they were standing so close he could feel her breath on his skin. He slid his hands up the front of her shirt, taking her breasts in his grasp and massaging them the same way she was doing to his dick.
The thin fabric of her blouse and bra did absolutely nothing to mask her hard nipples poking through. It wouldn’t have been possible to tamp down those rock-hard buds.
He felt them poking against the skin of his fingers and palms every time he brushed against them in his movements, and he could trace the jagged rhythm of her breath by how often his hands traced over those sensitive buds.
He leaned down and kissed her again, and this time the intensity between them multiplied tenfold. It was like an electric current flowed between their tongues, sending sharp jolts rocketing through him every time they pressed together.
He tore his mouth away reluctantly. Immediately after they broke apart, it felt wrong not to be connected with her. He had to rectify it. He leaned back down and started kissing her neck again, tracing shapes and paths with the hard tip of his tongue.
He moved down steadily, getting drunk on the slightly salty taste of her skin, now coated in a thin and glistening sheen of sweat. Oh, yeah. He could definitely see himself getting addicted to Abby. At least it would be the least destructive of his many addictions. In fact, it might be the thing that finally freed him from the rest.
His mouth reached the neckline of her shirt, but instead of stopping or even taking it off, he just kept kissing his way down. He was in the grip of an unstoppable momentum now, powerless to do anything about it.
He cupped her breasts in his hands, holding them up from below and squeezing slightly, stretching the fabric tight so that her distended nipples poked through even more obviously than before.
He covered the first one hungrily in his mouth, soaking the fabric of both her blouse and bra almost immediately as he suckled the sensitive tip with his hot mouth.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, creating a tidal wave of tingles that raced across his scalp and down the back of his neck, continuing down his body until they settled in his cock.
When she tightened her fingers, the tingles verged on light pain. Fuck, he wasn’t sure, but he thought he might like that even more.
He pulled back to move his head to her other breast but was struck still for a moment by the unbelievably sexy sight in front of him. On top of her breast, the distinct patch of wetness over her nipple turned the fabric almost translucent, giving him a full and beautiful view of the dark circle underneath, topped by the sweet hard tip of her nipple.
“God,” he groaned. “Gives a whole new meaning to the idea of a wet T-shirt contest.”
She laughed, the sound raspy and thin. “Even at a time like this, you have a smart-ass comment. I tell you one thing– I’ve never entered a wet T-shirt contest. But if I did, you can bet your ass I’d win.”
He matched her hoarse laugh. “Even at a time like this, your competitive streak rears its ugly head.”
Her fingers, still knotted in his hair, pulled his head back just a little so that he was looking up into her beautiful face, which was wearing a small and self-satisfied smirk. “Hey,” she said with a wink, “I can’t help it if I’m the best at everything I do.”
He returned her smile. “No arguments here.”
Then, before she could say anything else, he captured her other nipple in his mouth through the fabric of her shirt, swirling his tongue around and around it until nothing was coming from her mouth but soft, pretty moans.
He slid his hands underneath the hem of her shirt, sliding them up over the silky skin that he found there. His breath sped up until he was nearly hyperventilating. She was so soft, and warm. The stuff dreams were made of.
Taking advantage of the grip she had on his hair one last time, she pulled him back and looked into his eyes. There was a fire of intensity in hers that was new. Whatever she was about to say, he knew that he wouldn’t dare argue with it.