“Gonna bet you taste sweeter than you look,” he rasped.
And then he put his mouth there.
Like right fricking there.
Again, boys had tried to put it there. But they didn’t know where there was, or what to do with it. It just turned into an awkward and unsatisfying act.
I cried out the second Heath put his mouth on me.
My hands fisted the comforter to the point I feared I might rip the fabric apart. I’d thought he was worshipping me with his eyes.
I was so fricking wrong.
I didn’t know worship until he worked his mouth against me.
My climax came fast and hard. Hard enough for stars to invade my vision, my body, to the point I must’ve blacked out because as soon as I started to come back to earth, his fingers were inside me, gentle and expertly working me back up, back down, back somewhere beautiful and almost unbearable at the same time.
His eyes were locked against mine the entire time his mouth was working me to release, that was something one could only call life-shattering.
Not only did he give me something I’d thought was a myth, but he watched me lose control, completely unravel. There was something intimate about that. More intimate than his mouth on me, his fingers inside me.
Something that added yet another layer to whatever this was.
But something that was pushed away at the same time Heath gently, tenderly pushed my spent body backward, so I was once again splayed on the bed.
He stood.
I blinked him into stark focus.
In another blink, his tee was off, and I was completely and fully lucid. A torso like that would turn Charlie Cheswick lucid.
I’d known he’d have a great body, because, well, I had eyes. But seeing a hint of it covered in clothes was impactful enough. Actually gazing upon his sculpted abs, his defined pecs, the wide shoulders and muscled biceps was something else.
But there was something else.
Because I expected him to be smooth, like his pressed exterior. And the skin I’d seen had been smooth. Like granite. But dotted around his torso were puckered pieces of flesh, where something had violently torn through his flesh, scarring it forever.
He told me about his violent life.
He wore it behind his eyes.
But it was something else entirely to see the evidence of it on his skin.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, because somehow the ugliness of whatever had marked him only made him more so.
If he was one of those men who took offense to being called beautiful because it threatened his masculinity, he didn’t show it.
Wearing a pink fricking teddy and matching shoes wouldn’t threaten his masculinity.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his eyes feasting on me lying there, naked, propped up on my elbows.
“Unbutton your pants,” I commanded.
His mouth turned up, but he was still in intense alpha male mode, so a full-on grin wasn’t possible. “You telling me what to do too, Sunshine?” he asked.
I nodded. “Turnabout’s fair play.”
The mouth turn disappeared as he kicked off his boots and did as I asked. I itched to be as cool and erotic as him and not take my eyes off his when he did so. But I wasn’t. I was greedy. I wanted to imprint every part of his body onto my memory. And he was hotter than any man I’d seen in real life. And he was undressing.
For me.
So yeah, I was looking at the goods when he took his pants off.
And his underwear.
My stomach clenched when he was naked, oh so gloriously naked in front of me.
Naked and hard.
I wasn’t a stranger to this specific male appendage. I’d seen them up close, and been kind of, underwhelmed with them. Plus, they weren’t exactly…nice to look at.
I wasn’t underwhelmed right now. Heath standing in front of me, naked after just making me orgasm in a way I never thought possible was beyond purely nice. As was his manhood that was easily the most impressive I’d ever seen in my young life.
My core twitched just looking at it, craving him inside me.
Then I swallowed, thinking an utterly cliché virginal thought of ‘how the fricking heck is that going to fit in there?’
But he would fit. Because we fit. And I was ready. Beyond ready for him. He’d made sure of that. My muscles were not tight with nerves as they had been before. My muscles were all but liquid underneath my skin.
I did feel a spark of nerves, but it was physically impossible to manifest the entire nervous reaction that all girls got right before the act itself.
I did find it physically possible to push off the bed and stand on shaky feet in front of Heath.
He immediately gripped my hips to steady me, as if he glimpsed that small shake to my body. But then again, he was responsible for it, and he was very in tune with my body, as he demonstrated earlier.