Con didn’t listen. He twisted sideways and lowered me at an angle. Pressing my body into the sofa, he covered me completely. My skirt was shoved up to my waist, and my legs were spread, accommodating his narrow hips. If I thought I could feel his hard-on before, that was nothing compared to the thick, solid heat that branded me now.
He was relentless.
Lips skimmed along my jaw, to my ear, to my throat. Teeth scraped against the tendons of my neck, sending shivers through my entire body. My hips bucked, and I relished the friction his body offered.
I cursed us both for putting sex off limits tonight. I hadn’t been beneath a man like this since… I didn’t even want to admit how long it’d been.
“Con. I lied. Tonight. Now. Please.”
My words made no sense as they fell from my lips. But I was certain that the intensity of my need was obvious.
Con pushed up, and I cursed the lack of contact. “Don’t stop.”
This time he didn’t stop. Thank God.
He tugged down the neck of my camisole, exposing my lacy bra. It matched the thong and was much more daringly cut than I would normally wear. I could picture myself through his eyes. Face flushed. Breasts spilling out from the tiny demi cups barely large enough to cover my nipples. For the first time in my life, I wanted him to look. I wanted him to want. I didn’t think about my boobs being too big or the spidery stretch marks left over from my adolescence. All I thought about was how amazing it was to see the reverent look on his face when he supported himself on one arm and reached out to cup my left breast before freeing it from the bra. His eyes darted up to mine before dropping once again.
“Fucking Christ. You’re so goddamn gorgeous.” His thumb brushed my nipple and it pebbled under this touch. I released a pent up breath, arching toward him, wanting more.
And he gave me more.
Sliding down and propping himself up on both elbows, Con’s big hands squeezed and kneaded my breasts, flicking at my nipples until I was writhing against him. My legs wrapped around his waist, and I desperately sought the friction that would send me over the edge. I didn’t care that this was ridiculous. I didn’t care that this was insane. I just wanted Con to make me come.
It’d been so damn long since anyone other than me had gotten me off. But when Con pulled away and untangled himself from my legs, disappointment filled me. I was so close.
“Please. Don’t stop. I just want to—”
“You want to come?”
I nodded helplessly.
“Don’t worry, babe. I got you.” On his knees, Con stared down at me. “I want to taste you first.”
I blinked as his words crystallized in my brain. “Wh—”
“You going to let me get you off my way? Or are you going to make me leave you wanting more?”
My mouth dropped open. “You would seriously—”
Con’s grin was wicked, and at that moment, I wanted to slap it right off his face, the arrogant son of a bitch.
“You want to try me? Or do you want to come?” He raised an eyebrow, and his hand trailed up my thigh, teasing me with the promise of an orgasm.
The same stretch marks were there, but in the mostly dark room, he wouldn’t see them.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Make me come.”
“Good girl.”
His eyes stayed on mine as he lowered his face between my legs. My muscles clenched as his hot breath ghosted over the tiny scrap of lace separating his mouth from my pussy.
Con didn’t know it, but he was the only man who’d ever gone down on me. The memory sent quivers racing through me. I’d never known I was capable of multiple orgasms until that night. The things he’d done… the things I’d begged him to do again...
One blunt finger skimmed along the crease at the top of my thigh, lifting the edge of my panties away from my skin. Con’s eyes darted up to mine for a split second before he tugged at the delicate fabric and it gave way.
My mouth dropped open, but no words came out because he was already leaning closer to trace the seam of my pussy with his tongue. My nipples puckered, and my hands grew a mind of their own and tangled in his hair. His eyes lifted to mine again, and his grin damn near stopped my heart. The devilish mischief was almost an even bigger turn on than his tongue. Wrapping one huge hand around my hip, Con’s thumb followed the neat landing strip of hair left after my last wax.
“I like this.” He paused just above my clit, pressing only slightly. Not enough to send me over the edge. The glint in his eyes said he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was enjoying the hell out of teasing me. “And I like that you kept your lips bare.”
I squirmed under his close inspection, and his grin faded as his thumb slipped into my heat. “Jesus fucking Christ, Van. You’re soaked, baby.” When he lifted his hand and brought it to his mouth, I thought I might lose my mind before he finally gave me the orgasm I desperately wanted.
Sucking his thumb between his lips, he groaned. “Just as sweet as I imagined.”
A memory of him saying the same thing once before slammed into me, and I had to wonder if that night had been a fluke. If he hadn’t been drunk, would he have still brought me home?
I forgot to care about the answer to that question when he finally lowered his mouth to me and feasted.
All the pent up tension twisted tighter and tighter until it just… snapped. My fingernails dug into his scalp, and if I’d been capable of coherent thought at that moment, I might have been embarrassed. But I wasn’t. I could only focus on the orgasm ripping through me in muscle clenching waves.