The sight of it standing at attention is enough to make my mouth water. It’s big but not scarily so. A bead of precum dots the tip.
In all the years that I was married, I never wanted to give Derrick a blow job. I did it here and there, but it was never something I really wanted to do.
But Dane? He’s utter perfection, and I want him in my mouth.
He must see that in my expression because he groans, fisting himself and giving the shaft a long stroke.
“I could stand here and just look at you,” he says, his voice even more gravelly than before. “You’re a dream, Kaylee.”
I never imagined a man would say those things to me, let alone as I stand in front of him in a lace panty set that’s three years old. But he did, much to my surprise and delight, and I’m here for it.
My stomach tightens as the need for him burns in my core. A thin layer of sweat makes my hair stick to the back of my neck. I can feel my desire coating my thighs as I try to contain the urge to shove him on the bed and straddle him.
I had no idea that I missed this so much. It was not something I particularly looked forward to. Sex was a motion for me, an exchange of bodily fluids and time. It made the weeks go by easier.
It’s not that I hated it. I didn’t. I just didn’t get excited about it.
I also never felt as wanted as I do right now.
Dane takes a condom out of his pocket and stands back up. He rolls it over himself before tossing the wrapper aside.
My heart races in my chest so fast that I’m sure he can hear it as he grows closer to me.
“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm.
I step toward him. He captures me by placing a hand around my back and lugging me into his chest.
His cock is trapped against my stomach as his mouth lands on mine. His kiss is more starved, more frenzied than before.
When he breaks it and steps back, my bra falls to the floor.
He grins, rubbing his thumb over my nipple, and walks me backward toward the bed. My body comes alive under his touch. My nipples harden. I pant. And I most certainly get wetter.
My knees hit the end of the bed, and I sit on instinct. He kisses me again before gently shoving me backward so that I’m flat on the bed.
I shiver as he slides my panties off my body and tosses them aside.
“I’m dying to get inside you,” he says as he crouches down. “But I want to taste you first.”
What the fuck did he just say?
I raise my head to look at him, to object—to plead for his cock inside me, when I stop.
He spreads my thighs apart and drags a finger through my slit.
My body shakes, having craved this for so long, and the back of my head hits the mattress again.
“Dane … Ohmygosh.”
My body tenses before completely losing control as Dane’s tongue takes the place of his finger. He licks a long line through my wetness. As he passes my opening, he inserts a finger.
“Ah!” I say, my body pushing against his hand.
He licks again, pausing at my clit to flick it with his tongue.
“Fuck. I’ve wanted this for so long, Kaylee.”
“I wasn’t ready for this,” I say, balling the comforter in my hands.
He chuckles against me, working his fingers and mouth against my swollen skin. Just before he finds a rhythm that I can use, he stops.
I sigh both in relief and in complete frustration.
He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His expression is unreadable, and I mentally cringe, wondering if he didn’t like it … if he didn’t like me.
“I’m going to tell you right now that this round won’t be my best work,” he says, his tone strained. “I need you so damn bad that I’m going to have a hard time not exploding from the get-go.”
Oh, thank God.
“As long as I explode first, I won’t complain,” I tell him.
He grabs my ankles and jerks me to the edge of the bed. I yelp as I slide to the end. He plants a hand on either side of my face and hovers over me before I know what’s happening.
“You will always come first,” he says, his breath as hot as the act he just performed.
I bite my lip to keep from grinning. “Does that mean this will happen more than once?”
“If I have any say about it, it will.”
He kisses me again. I can taste myself on his tongue, and he’s right—it does taste sweet.
Dane springs off the bed with a no-nonsense look on his face. “You,” he says, pointing at me and then to the edge. “Here.”