Perfectly Adequate - Page 63

I kiss his chest and his arm, slowly moving to his back where I kiss between his shoulder blades while wrapping my arms around him, scraping my nubbins for nails along his chest. And then … I squat into the safe zone. My hands curl round the waistband of his jeans and briefs, pulling both down in one moderately smooth motion. As I kiss the backside of his legs and over his firm ass, he steps out of his jeans and turns toward me.

A tiny smile pulls at his lips as he grabs my ass, jerking me closer to him. “Why the grin?”

I removed your pants without swallowing your dick! I’m pretty fucking proud of myself.

And that’s exactly what will come out of my mouth if I’m forced to give an answer. So I raise onto my toes and kiss him instead. Hugging me tighter, he lifts me off the floor and lays me in the middle of his bed.

Kneeling between my spread knees, he peels off my socks and tosses them over his shoulder, wearing a cocky grin. “I fear I’ve wasted my whole life setting the bar too low for my fantasies because you’re the ultimate wet dream right now.” He kisses along my calf, making a slow ascent up my leg while sliding my shorts down a few inches, just enough to reveal my girl-boy briefs. “Perfect.” He grins, completely removing my shorts and sending them to collect on the floor with the rest of my clothes.

“What?” I ask as he rakes his gaze over my body without moving another muscle.

“You’re beautiful, Dorothy. And I just want to look at you. Just for a few seconds, I want to commit this to memory.”

It sounds sweet. It really does. But I’m sprawled out on his bed wearing nothing more than Wonder Woman briefs and a tiara. Kinky? Fetish-like even? Maybe. But beautiful is hard to believe, probably because I see parts more than the whole of things. Beautiful what? Eyes? Skin? Hair?

“Are you a little kinky, Eli?”

His lips twitch, eyes filled with unspoken words. I need those words. Forcing me to guess shit usually ends in disaster.

“Define kinky.” He leans forward and kisses my abs, teasing his tongue along the top of my Wonder Woman briefs.

I close my eyes as my fingers curl into his hair, urging him a bit lower. He runs his nose along the crotch of my briefs, driving me mad with the warmth of his breath.

“Eli …” I lift my hips from the bed. Yes, I realize it’s the equivalent of him stabbing at my mouth with his cock. I never claimed my reasoning was fair.

“Not yet …” His mouth denies my request as it kisses its way up my body. “If I give you that now…” he brushes his lips over mine “…I’ll have to wash my mouth out with soap and water, and brush and floss my teeth before I can kiss you. And right now … I want to kiss you.”

I grin. “Solid point.”

Eli kisses me, it feels different than his other kisses—a weird clash of patience and desperation. Maybe it’s his naked body hovering over mine. Maybe it’s that we’re on the verge of having sex totally naked in a bed that doesn’t belong to his mom.

His hands explore my body. Mine rest on his arms. Eli lets things build slowly as if he wants to draw out the moment. The journey seems to matter to him. I, on the other hand, have laser focus on the destination.

I hate that I have two modes: Don’t touch me. Or … Give me an orgasm now!

Foreplay is simply an overabundance of touching.

“Put on a condom.”

“I will.” He takes his sweet time working his mouth back down my body.

I grimace, clenching my hands to prevent myself from reaching between my legs and getting myself off. Yes, something I would have done and often did do years earlier. The look of shock guys would get on their faces after I’d pleasure myself and hop out of bed before they wrapped it up and made an attempt to stick it inside of me was truly priceless.

But Eli is not just a random guy I plan on using for a quick orgasm. And I want him to think I’m good at sex—not just with myself, but with him too.

Again, he lets his mouth hover between my legs as he slides a finger under my briefs, teasing my clit. My hand covers his as I jerk my pelvis, guiding his finger inside of me.

Yes!

He’s slow. My hips rock against his hand at a much faster pace. His thumb finds my clit as he kisses my inner thigh, teasing it with his tongue.

Are we done kissing? I feel like we are. If he can add his long middle finger and move his tongue up two inches, including it in the mix, I will see stars.

Tags: Jewel E. Ann Romance
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