Zach draws me in closer and holds me tight, like he’s afraid I’ll fly away, but I only want to get closer. And there’s nothing to stop me. No doubts or unknowns. So I wrap a leg around his hip, offering him my mouth and he takes it hungrily, no hesitation. After four days of no contact, we’re frantic to reacquaint our tongues, stroking them together, moaning over the slick friction, the smooth slide of our lips.
It’s only a matter of seconds before Zach rolls me onto my back, his big hips crowding between my thighs. He’s in a tux and I’m in a short robe, and the contrast of that makes my pulse spike. “Missed you so much, baby,” he mutters in between kisses. “Thought I was going to die without you.”
“Me too.” I kiss his jaw, his cheek, his mouth. “Me too.”
We realize at the same moment that my robe has unbelted. I took a shower a couple of hours ago and immediately lay down to feel bad for myself, so I’m not wearing a bra or panties, meaning I’m completely naked in the lamplight. I could already feel Zach’s erection against my inner thigh, but it lengthens now, turning harder, thicker. His expression is reverent, his fingertips tracing a circle around my left nipple, groaning when it tightens into a spike. “We can’t.” He drops his mouth to my breast, licking the peak and shivering. “Your mother could walk in here any second.”
“Lock the door,” I breathe, arching my back enticingly.
“Jill.” His tone holds a warning. “I’m your boyfriend now. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with your parents. They could restrict me from seeing you.”
All of this makes total sense, but my body isn’t letting me be logical. All I know is the man of my dreams is in my bed, I’m naked, and miracle of miracles, he just called himself my boyfriend. “But I want to feel you inside me. Please?” I bite my lip. “Just a little?”
Zach bites off a growl. “Jill, you know if I get the tip in, you’re getting the whole cock.”
His guttural speech makes me blush and I think in that moment, we both know resisting is pointless. Zach curses and climbs off the bed, turning the lock. Before he can get back into bed with me, I sit up, stopping him. “Wait,” I whisper. “Can you…take your jacket and shirt off? I want to see you.”
The two times things have gotten physical between us, he’s always been fully clothed, but I crave the sight of his skin. Want to know if he has hair on his chest, a happy trail, even the color of his nipples.
Zach hesitates, though, and my throat constricts.
I walk toward the edge of the bed on my knees, shedding the robe behind me. I hold his eyes with mine as I remove his bow tie, laying it on the bed. Next I push the jacket off his shoulders and start on the buttons of his white dress shirt. He clears his throat and looks away, the tips of his ears deepening in color, but occasionally he glances at my face, as if to determine my reaction to the thick chest and hefty belly I’m slowly revealing.
Finally, all of the buttons are undone and I push open the shirt.
He’s a God. A meaty, broad-shouldered, masculine king. His belly protrudes out over his belt buckle, hair curling in a dark trail leading into his pants. His nipples are a beautiful tan, his arms like big, protecting cannons. And he towers over me, powerful and huge and mine.
“Zach,” I whisper, trailing a finger down between his pecs. “You’re so sexy.”
He starts to deny it, but then he notices I’m trembling. Notices I can barely breathe and goose bumps are rising on every inch of my skin. “Jill?”
“You’re mine,” I say, palming my breasts. Squeezing. “I want everyone to know.”
A few beats pass. “Christ.” He shakes his head. “I really do make you hot.”
My response is to take his hand and guide it between my thighs, encouraging him without words to delve his fingers into my folds and he does. They come away drenched and he curses, heat flaring in his expression. And right before my eyes, his confidence grows. The red fades from the tips of his ears and his shoulders go back. If possible, he’s even sexier than before and I didn’t think that was possible.
Before I can guess his intention, he grips my knees and tugs—hard—causing me to flop backward onto the mattress. Naked in front of his eyes. At first, when he goes down on his knees, I’m not sure what he’s doing, but then I’m being yanked to the very edge of the bed and his tongue is riding up the center of my sex, wet and stiff and determined. I have to slap a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. And I have to keep it there, because Zach goes at me like a man possessed, licking and sucking me, rubbing my clit with the pad of his thumb, growling when my body releases more wetness, lapping it up eagerly.