Yeah… I’m fucked—soon that will be literal.
My lips find his, and he pulls me so tight that kissing becomes a little awkward. He tastes as desperate as he looks, and another piece of my heart is chipped away and handed over to him.
It’s not just a normal kiss. It’s not just hungry or wild. It’s not just a prelude to more. It’s a searching kiss, as though he’s seeking so many answers. I don’t know what answers he needs, since I’m the one with all the questions.
He picks me up, keeping my legs around his waist, and he carries us over to his shitty mattress. But I don’t complain when he puts me down and climbs over my body.
Every motion seems to be so much slower than I expected, drawn out. With one hand, he pops the button on my jeans, and he gingerly works them down my hips as his mouth comes down to kiss the small strip of flesh that carries his name.
My breath gets a little heavier when his eyes find mine, holding my gaze as he traces the name with his tongue.
“This is my favorite,” he says, grinning up at me like all the fear has just melted away.
“Imagine that. Your name on my body is your favorite tattoo,” I say dryly, even though I’m secretly holding back the urge to tell him to quit teasing me.
I’ve never liked slow and sensual. I like hard and fast. But Corbin takes his time, slowly worshipping my body with his mouth. But his mouth isn’t going where I want it to go.
An embarrassingly sharp intake of air is loud, and he grins as he kisses down the inside of my thigh, dragging those tormenting lips down to my calf as he continues to slowly peel my jeans off me.
The second they’re gone, he takes my other leg and starts kissing his way back up. When he reaches the black lace panties, my breathing stops completely. He’s not done teasing, though, because all he does is kiss right to where they start, and then he starts peeling my shirt up, kissing a trail up my side of blue flowers.
“I hate these,” he whispers, running his fingers over three of the flowers that almost touch my right breast … the ones nearest to my heart. The vine stops just under my armpit, so I giggle like an idiot when he traces them, ruining the moment a little.
He grins, apparently enjoying the fact I’m ticklish.
“You remember yours,” I say on a sigh as he stops tracing.
“How could I forget? I regret asking what the blue flowers represented.”
Trying to play it off, I shrug. “I like to make pain beautiful. It should be remembered, but it shouldn’t rule you.”
And now I sound like I’m waxing poetic nonsense again.
He kisses them once more, and he moves over to the other side as I finish pulling my shirt over my head.
“These I love,” he says, kissing the red roses on that side.
I run my fingers through his hair as he makes all the tension in my body slowly melt away. Before I can say more, his mouth is moving down again, and I tremble under the sensation.
His breath fans over the part of me that is desperate for him, and the lace is leisurely removed, as though he’s not in the same hurry I am. He takes his time sliding my panties down my legs, but when he’s done, he finally puts me out of my misery.
My back arches off the bed when his lips fasten around that bundle of nerves, and he anchors me to him, not giving any space between his mouth and my body. My legs tighten against him, and I claw at the sheets to keep from pulling his hair out.
The knot in my stomach matches the one in my throat, because it feels so good that it almost hurts. His mouth is fucking incredible.
His tongue flicks and swirls, and I moan and writhe when I lose all control. It’s almost painful when my release slams into me, and I actually cry out his name like a damn porno.
He tears his mouth away as my entire body goes from being too rigid to being so relaxed that my limbs actually feel heavy. With jerky, quick movements he tosses away his clothes, and reaches around me to undo my bra and toss it away.
I barely even catch my breath before he’s sliding in, lowering his body to mine with each incredible inch he pushes forward. No condom. No layer between us. I can feel those four beads of perfection pushing inside, massaging me in the most intimate of ways, and…Oh damn.
Thinking gets too hard to do, especially when he starts kissing me, his hips move faster when he loses the ability to keep his slow pace. One hand roughly grabs my ass, pulling me at a different angle, and some freaky sound leaves me, forcing us to break the kiss.