“Thanks.” He grins, clearly pleased with the compliment as he reaches for the bottom of the tee. “But hold the applause until you see the amount of hair we’re working with under this shirt. You may change your mind about my man beauty. I’ve gotten even hairier since high school.”
As his tee hits the carpet, I make a soft, needy sound I’m pretty sure I’ve never uttered before. But it is the only accurate response to his broad, thickly muscled chest, covered with the perfect dusting of dark black hair.
“I guess that means you don’t mind a little chest hair?” he asks, his eyes darkening as he stops beside the bed, studying me with an intensity that makes it clear he wants to devour me, too.
“I want to feel it on my nipples,” I confess, but before I can worry that I’ve let my freak flag fly too soon, Sam is on the bed, kissing me hard as he lengthens himself on top of me.
“And I want your nipples in my mouth,” he mumbles against my lips as he cups my hip, dragging me more fully beneath him, sending an electric shock of arousal scalding across my skin. “I want to taste every inch of you, Jess. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“I’m a slug who exercises once a week, tops,” I say, my pulse racing as he cups my breast through my short-sleeved sweater, tightening my nipple to a tingling, aching point. “I am not your equal and I doubt I ever will be.”
“You’re perfect,” he says, pulling back from the kiss as he tugs my sweater from my khakis and slowly pushes the fabric up. “This belly button?” He glances down, biting his lip as he brushes the rough pad of his thumb around my navel, making my breath catch. “It’s perfect. And these ribs, so delicate, but strong.” He traces one and my pussy throbs.
I’ve never thought of my ribs as an erogenous zone, but I have a feeling everyplace Sam puts his hands will become one of those. His hands are magic. He seems to instinctively know just how to touch me, how to talk to me, how to take his time until I’m not only ready for what comes next but dying for it.
“Please,” I beg as he finishes tracing a third rib and my nipples are practically screaming for him to taste them, like he said…
Even though…
“I’ve never done this before,” I confess as he cups my breasts through my simple white cotton bra, the one that does nothing to boost the boob-i-liciousness of my small breasts.
But he doesn’t seem to care, he’s looking at my chest like I’m Venus rising from the ocean instead of a twenty-four-year-old virgin on her goofy childhood bedspread.
“I know,” he says, his brow furrowing.
“No, I mean…any of it,” I say, trusting my gut that honesty is the best policy.
I’m going to have enough of a learning curve without trying to play it cool and figure things out as I go along. Even though Sam is a virgin, too, I’m sure he’s more experienced than I am. I can feel it in the confident way he squeezes my breasts before dropping his head to press a kiss to the top of one swell, making me feel like I’m drowning in longing.
Threading my fingers into his hair so I can hold him close if he tries to pull away, I add, “All I’ve done is kissing and some…rolling around. A couple guys have made it to second base, but not with their mouths, just their hands. I’ve never had an um…” I swallow, breath catching as he pushes my breasts together, causing my nipples to drag across the cotton, even that small friction enough to send fresh need twisting between my hips. “I’ve never had anyone put their mouth there. So, I’m not sure… I’m not sure what it feels like. Or if I like it.”
His eyes burn into mine, making my panties even wetter. “All right. Let me know what you think. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. Anything you don’t like, I’ll stop. Just keep talking to me. Or making those hungry sounds. Those sounds are my new favorite sounds in the entire world, by the way.”
“O-okay,” I say, gulping for air. “But definitely keep going because I’m pretty sure I need your hand down the front of my panties more than I need oxygen.”
He mutters something that sounds like a curse and his hands shake a little as he draws the cups of my bra down, baring my breasts to another human gaze for the first time in my entire life. Before I can come to terms with the massiveness of the moment, he kisses the skin beside my nipple. A beat later, he curls his tongue around the tight, starving flesh and it feels so good I’m pretty sure I have an out-of-body experience.
All I know is that I’m suddenly shot through with rainbows and starlight and some very passionately dancing disco unicorns. When I come back into my skin, I’m clinging to Sam’s shoulders with my legs wrapped around his hips, grinding into what feels like his waist as he sucks and licks and bites—damn, the biting, who knew that would feelthatamazing?—my breasts.
“Too tall,” I pant, moaning as I writhe beneath his brilliant, wicked mouth. “Why do you have to be so tall?”
He lifts his head, arching a brow as he asks in a breathy rumble, “Most women are into tall guys. It’s a thing.”
“But if you were shorter, I could feel if you were excited too,” I say, my inner sex kitten as shameless as ever. But Sam doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seems to love it when I employ radical honesty in the bedroom, a fact that makes me feel confident enough to add, “Is it wrong that I want to grind on your cock instead of your waist?”
“Jesus, Jessica,” he says, tugging at the back of my knee until I release my vise grip on his torso. “Do you know what it does to me when you say shit like that?”
I shake my head, mesmerized by the hunger-pain-longing on his face. “No, but I think…you dig it?”
“It makes me crazy,” he says, shifting forward, until his hips hover between my spread legs. “It makes me want to be inside you, buried so deep there’s no doubt in your mind how much I want you.”
Then he drops his hips, pressing against me through our clothes, and I swear to God I nearly come just from that, from the feel of his massive cock pulsing against my clit.
But then The Representative from the Office of Virginal Concerns raises her fearful head to remind me that a large tampon can be a little too much down there at times and to pose a few important questions/concerns:
What if Sam and I are as well-matched as a Great Dane and a field mouse and our smoking hot sex life is over before it begins?
What if he breaks my vagina and I end up in a hospital bed next to my mother, who will have a second minor heart attack when she learns I was trying to have premarital sex under her roof?