“You’re perfect,” he praises against my heaving chest. “So perfect.”
Emboldened by his praise, I reach up and pull down the cup of my bra. Dalton just stares. He doesn’t open his mouth to speak or swipe his tongue at my nipple that’s beading to the point of pain at his perusal.
He. Just. Stares.
Heat fills my cheeks, making my embarrassment clear to anyone who might see me, but when I apologize and move to pull my clothes back up, he grips my hand, preventing me from doing it.
“Don’t,” he whispers, and the tone is reverent and grateful. “Let me look at you.”
My mouth turns into a desert as my breaths rush out in uneven puffs.
“Show them both to me.”
My hands tremble as I pull down the other side of my bra, and we both watch as the second nipple furls to match the first.
“This is the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen.” His voice is a whisper, but it seeps into me like warmth on a cold winter’s day. He looks up at me, his eyes sparkling with some unknown emotion. “C-can I touch them?”
“Please,” I beg.
And when he does, when he reaches both hands up and palms each of my breasts, I’m certain I’ve never felt anything more powerful in my life.
“Jesus,” he grunts, rubbing his thumbs over the peaks before pinching them lightly between two fingers. “You’re amazing. These… God… I’m a lucky bastard.”
His eyes find mine once more, and they’re filled with an unspoken pleading, and all I can do is nod my agreement. I don’t know what he’s asking, but I’m willing to let him do just about anything at this point.
My dreams are fulfilled when he lowers his head, licking at one nipple and then the other.
And I was wrong about his touch being the most powerful thing because his mouth on my sensitive flesh outranks it by leaps and bounds.
“Dalton,” I moan when he sucks my nipple into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing out with the action.
“Feel good?” he asks as he turns his head to lavish the same attention on my other breast.
“So good. Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. He keeps his mouth on me until my hips are working against his of their own volition. He keeps kneading, sucking, and nipping at my breasts, grunting his own pleasure when I press my core against him, looking for relief.
Something akin to a howl spews from my throat when the combination of everything takes me over the edge. His mouth slows as my orgasm ebbs, and even though I’m satiated with all of it, I still bury my face in his throat, embarrassed by what just happened. The orgasm was so powerful my head throbs with each pulse, making my eyes scrunch from the radiating pain.
“Don’t hide from me,” he says as he urges my head back.
His lips are red and puffy, and it makes his mouth that much more delectable. I kiss him because I just have to, and he kisses me back with the same needy fervor. The headache fades away as my heart rate evens out, and I’m grateful for it.
“You came,” he mumbles against my mouth as his lips turn up in a smile.
“Sorry.”
His smile grows even wider. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that. It thrills me that I was able to help.”
“Yeah?”
He nods. “But you need to get back over there.”
He motions to the driver’s seat, but I’m not interested in that suggestion. He’s still thick and hard under me, and that’s an issue I want to resolve. He brought me pleasure, now it’s his turn.
“That doesn’t interest me at all,” I tell him as I reach for the button on his jeans.
“Piper.” He swallows, and I can tell he’s pained by what he’s going to say next. “Two cars pulled up while we were umm… while you were… there are more people in the park now.”
“What?” I hiss, rubbing my hand over the fogged-up window. Sure enough, there are not two cars like he thought, but a handful lined up in the parking lot beside us. “Do you think they saw?”
I scramble into the driver’s seat, managing it much faster than the crawl into his lap.
He chuckles, and I watch as he adjusts his erection in his jeans. “I think the windows were fogged up enough, but anyone could guess what was going on.”
My hands tremble as I push my hair out of my face.
“Calm down,” he says, grabbing my hands and pulling them to his lips. “They didn’t see anything.”
“But it could be people who recognize this car. What if they tell my dad?”
“I don’t think anyone would bat an eye at knowing a high school senior is making out with her boyfriend at the park.”
There are so many angles I could approach that statement, but it’s the word boyfriend that stops me in my tracks.