I do as he asks, and he grips the fabric of my dress that I was sitting on and pulls it over my head. He stands back, dropping my new dress to the floor, and takes his time, letting his eyes roam over every inch of me.
“I was fifteen.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“I was fifteen the first time I thought about what you might be hiding under your swimsuit. If I’m being honest, it was before that, but I remember that day vividly. I’ve been yours ever since.”
He’s obviously had several beers, so I’m not sure if what he’s saying is real or if it’s the alcohol-induced haze that he’s in. Either way, I don’t question him. I like the thought of him thinking of me as his and that he’s wanted me from afar just as I have him. My only regret is that we didn’t end up in this very situation sooner. Maybe we weren’t ready for one another back then.
Hudson slides his index fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs and tugs them to the floor in one quick motion, kicking them to the side. I’m still sitting on the bed, which puts his very hard cock right in my line of sight. I swallow hard.
“Hey,” he croons. His index finger finds its way beneath my chin, and he lifts my gaze to be trained on him. “I’d never hurt you.”
I don’t know how he was able to read my mind.
“We’ve still got some work to do.” He steps even closer, which brings his hard cock even closer. He leans behind me to unfasten my bra, but he freezes when I wrap my hand around him and bring his cock to my mouth.
“Holy fuck,” he mumbles, his hands bracing on my shoulders.
I feel brazen and unhinged as I take him deeper with each pass. The sounds he’s making causes desire to pool between my thighs. I take as much of him as I can, which must push him over the edge because instead of holding my shoulders, he’s pushing me away as he steps back.
“Too good, Riles,” he praises. “I’m not going to come down your throat. Not this time. I want to be here.” His hand falls between my thighs and dips under the small piece of lace that’s useless to hide what he does to me.
I want him.
All of him.
Reaching for the straps of my bra, that’s now unhooked thanks to Hudson, I slide them over my shoulders and pull it off, placing it on the bed next to us. Then I lie back and give him a look that I hope tells him to do his worst. I’ve waited for what feels like a lifetime to have his hands on me. Tonight is the night, and I’m all in.
“I hope these aren’t your favorite pair,” he says as the sound of my lace panties being ripped echoes throughout the room.
I gasp. Not because I’m upset, but because this has to be the hottest moment of my life. “I’ll buy you a new pair,” he says, flashing me a grin as he drops to his knees. I don’t have time to process what’s happening, but with the first swipe of his tongue, I’m caught up to speed.
Closing my eyes, I focus on the feel of his hot mouth and his tongue. The things this man can do with his tongue. When he adds his fingers into the mix, a moan from somewhere deep in the recess of my chest escapes, and I grip his hair, holding him to me. I can feel the fire race up my spine as my legs wrap around his neck. I should be embarrassed, but I can’t seem to find it in me to care. All I want is to feel the burst of flames as I fall over the edge of ecstasy.
“Give it to me, Riles,” he growls.
“Hud…” I pant, but I can’t speak in full sentences. I can’t even force his name past my lips. The pleasure is too consuming, too blinding as my back arches off the bed. My hold not only on his hair but also the tightening of my legs around his head increases as my body shoots off with what I’m now claiming as the most intense orgasm of my entire life.
He doesn’t stop his ministrations until I release my grip on his hair and move my legs, letting them fall back to the mattress. I’m a limp, satisfied noodle as I try to catch my breath.
I feel his lips as he kisses his way up my body. He stops at my breasts, paying each of them an equal amount of attention. If it’s not his teeth nipping at each sensitive bud, it’s his tongue soothing the ache while his thumb and forefinger massage the other. It’s sensation overload, and I know even with my orgasm-clouded brain, there will be no coming back from this night.