Porter (Men of Lovibond 3)

We make a game of biting and sucking each other’s lips. It’s fun and playful.

/> Until it’s not.

Our kiss is no longer teasing. It’s heated and demanding with increasingly harder handgrips and squeezes.

His hands move to my hips and he uses them to steer my body to the sofa while kissing me en route.

He walks backward and sits on the sofa, leaving me to make my own decision about how I want to be positioned.

Beside him?

Across his lap?

On top, mounting him?

I place a knee on each side of him and lower my body to straddle his. His hands move to my hips and he grips the sides, moving them so I’m rocking against his hard cock pressing against my crotch.

One of his hands leaves my hips and comes up to wrap around my nape, pulling me down so his mouth can reach the side of my neck. His mouth is sucking hard. I’m certain I’ll wear a love bite there for all to see. Not sure how I’ll explain that one, but I let him continue.

“Tell me to stop and I will. Just say the words.” He’s talking about stopping but his mouth is kissing and sucking and nibbling harder.

I grasp the sides of his face and press our foreheads together. “I like what we’re doing. Don’t stop.”

“I don’t know your limitations.”

“I’ll tell you when you’re there. For now, keep going.”

“Fuck… Frankee. The way you make me want you… it’s irrational. Makes me lose all sense of self-control.”

Porter lifts my body and flips us so I’m beneath him. His face is pressed against the side of my neck, his lips leaving kisses in their path. One hand slides under my shirt and dips into my bra. He rolls my nipple between his thumb and index finger and it instantly hardens. And it’s like a control center for everything between my legs.

I want his hands on me.

I want his mouth on me.

I want him on me, period.

I bend my knee and bring my leg up so it’s wrapped around his waist. His body conforms between my legs like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that connect together perfectly.

We just fit.

I gather the fabric of his shirt in my hand and push it upward. “I want this off of you.”

He puts his fingers inside the neck of his T-shirt and pulls it over his head in one smooth motion. And there it is. The answers to the questions in my head; his entire chest is inked in black tribal tattoos, matching the ones wrapping around his upper arms.

I reach out and rub my hands over the taut muscles. “I hoped your chest would be tatted.”

“Like that, do ‘ya?”

“It’s art on your body. I love it.”

I grab the back of his head and pull him down—hard—so his mouth is pressed against mine. I love kissing this man. Love the feel of his tongue against mine. Love the taste of his mouth.

Everything about being this way with Porter feels different than it has with any man before him. He makes me feel special. And he makes this feel right. Like I won’t regret taking it further. All the way.

No man has ever made me feel this way. Hence, the reason I always put on the brakes before things go any further.

I don’t want to stop this with Porter. But I also don’t want him to not realize what he’s getting with me.

Not all men want virgins. They want experienced women. Partners who can bring them to the ultimate ecstasy. I’m inexperienced. I won’t be like the other women Porter has had. And I’m afraid he won’t want me because of it.

He pushes my shirt up and nibbles the skin on my stomach and waist. I squirm almost violently beneath him. “Oh God.”

“Someone is very ticklish.” He pushes my shirt higher and stills when he sees the tattoo wrapping around the side of my torso and ribs. “That ink is hot as fuck, Frankee.”

“Glad you like it.”

He pushes down the waistband of my shorts and kisses and licks the skin on my lower belly. Feels so good. I don’t want to tell him to stop, but we have to talk. “Hey, I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.” His hooded caramel eyes look up at my face, but his mouth doesn’t stop. God, I can’t think straight with him kissing my body down there while looking up at my eyes like that.

I push my fingers into the top of his hair. “Put the brakes on a minute. I need you to hear what I’m saying. It’s important.”

Porter places one last kiss against my stomach and crawls up my body until we’re face-to-face. He places a sweet closed-mouthed kiss against my lips. “You have my full attention.”

“You knew me as a teenager. What I looked like. How backward I acted. I don’t have to tell you that boys weren’t interested in me.”

“You didn’t need boys being interested in you.”

“I changed during college. Guys started noticing me. And liking me. A lot.”

“With good reason.”

“I knew going into college that I needed to graduate as soon as possible. Dating was a distraction from my studies. I rarely went out with guys. And I sure didn’t sleep around.”

“I know you didn’t; you’re not that kind of girl.”

“I’m not at all that kind of girl.” I wish he would pick up on what I’m hinting at and just ask me if I’m a virgin. I hate making a production out of this. “Do you understand what I mean when I say that I didn’t sleep around at all?”

“You don’t have to tell me this. I know you’re not a slut. I’m not worried about how many men you’ve been with.”

“I haven’t been with any men. Not one.”

His eyes widen and a space grows between his top and bottom lip while he processes my words. “You’re a virgin?”

I nod.

“Fuck. I knew you were different—and it’s one of the reasons I like you so much—but I never imagined that you were saving yourself.”

“I’m not saving myself. I’ve just never found a person I thought was deserving of my virginity.” I stroke my fingers down his cheek and touch his lips with my fingertips. “Until you.”

Silent and unmoving, his eyes search mine. Warm caramel on soft blue.

“I understand that anything between us would be just for fun. And that’s okay. I don’t need you to make promises of forever or declarations of love. But if we do this, I don’t want you to be with anyone but me. At least until I leave for Austin.

Shit. He’s not saying a word.

“I need to know what you’re thinking.”

I’m terrified that Porter sees my virginity and inexperience as a shortcoming—as many men would—and not an asset. A hassle that’s more trouble than it’s worth.

He pushes some stray hairs away from my face. “I’m thinking that I have never wanted anyone more than I want you right now.”

Porter’s mouth comes down on mine gently, and we pick up with our previous kiss—except we’re back to soft and slow and sweet.

His mouth leaves mine and moves lower. Down my throat. Down my chest. Between my cleavage in the deep V of my T-shirt. He cups my boobs from the bottom, pushing them upward, and drags his face back and forth over my soft mounds. “I love your tits. I’ve been wanting to bury my face in them since the day you came into my office for your interview.”

He presses his face between them and inhales deeply. “You bent down in front of me, and I saw your black lace bra. Fuck, you looked sexy in that outfit. I was sitting behind my desk hard as steel while I watched you make your presentation.”

“Is that why I got the position?”

“No, but being sexy as fuck sure didn’t hurt your chances.”

Porter places a quick kiss to my mouth and gets up. He grabs my hands and tugs me to follow. “I want you in my bed.”

Oh shit. Moving to his bed means this is happening. Now.

We enter Porter’s bedroom, and he points a remote toward the television. Pink Floyd’s ‘Wish You Were Here’ begins playing. Not a song I’ve ever considered romantic, but damn if it’s not perfect.

“In case you’re wondering, this is going to be a very long lunch break.”

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Hickeys on my neck. Gone for lunch far too long. Leaving with Porter. I may have some difficult questions to answer when we return, but I’ll worry about that later.

We move next to the bed and he cradles my face. “I swear I’m going to make you feel so good, Frankee. A kind of good that I know you’ve never felt before.”

I hear his declaration, and all my fear and anxiety dissipate. I’m not afraid. I want this. I want this with Porter.

He pushes my shirt up, and together we pull it over my head. I had no idea we’d be getting naked together today. I lucked out on choosing a sexy bra and panties set this morning.

I’m wearing my lacy deep-crimson bra. I know how great my boobs look in it, so I have zero confidence issues with him looking at them.

He gently squeezes and releases both before pulling down one cup and then the other. Both of my breasts topple out of the top and push upward. He studies both intently as he palms them with care and adoration. “So damn perfect.”

He cups one from the bottom and lowers himself to suck it into his mouth. He licks and tugs on the sensitive bud and the vibration of his mouth on my breast when he moans sends tingles throughout my body.

Porter is in no hurry to stop or move on to something different. He’s taking his time and giving equal attention to both of my breasts. I don’t mind it a bit, but I find it surprising. I had no idea a man could take such pleasure in touching and rubbing and sucking a woman’s breasts.

He stands tall when he finishes and tugs at the button on my shorts. They unfasten, and he lowers the zipper. His palms glide into my shorts and panties, and he pushes both down my legs. They land on top of my feet, and I kick out of them.

“Your tits look so pretty jacked up like that, but I want you naked.” He unhooks the bra and slips it off, tossing it on the bed.

With my bra gone, I’m completely bared to him. He licks his lips and his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. “You are breathtaking.”

Porter goes down on his knees in front of me. “I’m going to show you what it feels like to have your body worshipped.”

I don’t know what that means. But I want to find out.

He reaches around and grasps my butt, surprising me when he pulls me toward him. I’m forced to put my hand on top of his head for balance.