Damn. Sweet Savannah was Sexy Savannah.
She was pressing her tits against my bare chest, and sliding her tongue between my lips.
I gripped her hips, hard, kissing her back, fighting her for domination, wanting her so fucking bad. She was giving the sexiest little moans and I could feel the tightness of her nipples through her thin sweater. Her nails pressed into my arms.
We devoured each other, both not able to get enough, until I flipped her off of me and onto her back on the couch. I’d give anything to take her to a big bed, but I couldn’t risk Sully waking up and cock blocking. We had to stay in the living room, and no getting her to screaming levels, unfortunately.
I popped the snap on her jeans for the second time in one night. “We have to be quiet,” I told her. “No waking the baby.”
She nodded. “Silent sex. I can do that. Whatever it takes to have you inside me.”
Holy fuck. Nothing could be hotter than hearing her say that. “I need to go get a condom out of my bag. Don’t move.”
Having a teen mom had meant she’d beat into me the importance of protection. Most of the talks had gone along the lines of “I’m not watching your kid if you screw up” and “babies are expensive.” I had believed her and as a result always had condoms in easy access.
I was back in a minute,
condom on, pants off, and she was lying on her back, hair spread around her shoulders. For a second, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, she was so damn gorgeous. And she was still fully dressed. I put my knees between her thighs, easing them apart, and looked down at her. Cupping her cheeks, I gave her a slow, deep kiss. Then I eased her sweater up and over her head before tossing it onto the floor.
“Can you…” She took a deep breath. “Maybe stay away from my chest? The nursing… it feels awkward.”
I nodded. “Of course.” The last thing I wanted was for her to feel self-conscious or to feel like a mom instead of a woman. I was well aware of what she had admitted—she hadn’t had sex since before Sully was born.
It was probably best to just leave her bra on unless she indicated otherwise.
I kissed her, wanting to erase that nervous expression she was wearing.
I’d always wondered what it would be like to kiss Savannah. In my nerdy teen years, I had imagined she would be cool and sophisticated, a bit icy. But she was anything but. Savannah opened herself easily to me, and wrapped her arms around my back, nails scratching lightly across my skin. So lightly it gave me goose bumps.
It was a warm kiss, a sweet brushing of our mouths, an honest and vulnerable touch that heated higher with each touch, each stroke. My muscles tensed, my cock hardened, as she made those sounds of pleasure, little moans of eagerness. It was better than any fantasy I’d ever had.
When she started to shift her hips, questing, her nails no longer as light on my skin, I pulled back. There was only one lamp on in the living room and it was the perfect amount of illumination on her pale skin. “Savannah.”
“Maddox.” She stared up at me expectantly, trusting.
“You turn me on so fucking bad.” Then I gripped both her panties and her jeans with my hands and dragged them down. I got them off one ankle and then the other.
I went back to her mouth, kissing her hard, crowding her body with mine. Running my hands over her shoulders, down her arms, I brushed over her fingers and then shifted to her hips. She had an hourglass shape. Big breasts, narrow waist, full hips. I’d spent enough time staring at her as a teenager to know it was her natural shape, but definitely more exaggerated now that she’d had a baby. Everything about it turned me on. She was soft, with silken skin, and curves that had a little give to them. Not skin and bones.
As I stroked her hips, her inner thighs, just getting the feel of her body, and her reactions to what areas, I kissed the trail behind my touch.
She tensed and tried to shift away when I touched her stomach, so I moved on. But otherwise she seemed relaxed and aroused. When I got to her inner thighs with my mouth, dropping a light kiss on one thigh, then the other, she gave a little sound of both pleasure and impatience.
Trying to turn so I landed on her pussy, Savannah reached down and buried her fingers in my hair. I had beard stubble and I lightly rubbed against the tender flesh, still not going where she so clearly wanted me to. Drawing out the tease, I skimmed right over her sex and lifted back up to give her another aggressive, hard kiss.
This time she wrapped her foot around my calf and drew her body closer to mine.
That’s when I went back down and slipped my tongue over her clit and down inside her. She gave a hiss of ecstasy, clearly trying to stay quiet, but her nails dug deep into my skin. “Mad…” she whispered. “Oh, God.”
Mad. She’d given up calling me Maddy.
It was a fucking satisfying realization. I dropped my tongue in and out of her, finding a rhythm. She was deliciously wet and trying to take more from me, lifting her hips.
“I need to come,” she murmured.
I shook my head. “Not yet.” Using the strength of my forearms I held her knees down, spreading her even wider. “I want to look at you.”
She was bare, pink, swollen, and very, very wet. I stroked along her folds, breathing in her feminine scent. I wanted everything about this night to be burned in my memory forever. I tasted her clit, and I used my finger to ease inside her in search of the angle I’d found earlier, the moment that had caused her to shatter with almost no warning.