He groaned as our lips met again. His kisses were more controlled now, but I could feel the wildness underneath. He was a wild man. But he was gentle with me.
I trusted him, I realized with a start.
So I didn’t hold back. I felt myself letting go of all my worries, just like I did the first time I rode on the back of his bike. I felt the weight of the world lift off my shoulders.
I didn’t hesitate or worry. I wasn’t coy. I didn’t even think about the big V hovering above us.
Not when he kissed me. Not when he deftly removed my shirt and jeans and bra. Not when he pulled my nipples into his mouth one by one, slathering them with reverent kisses. Not when he pressed a kiss into the white cotton of my panties. When he stared up at me, his eyes were raw with need.
I nodded, even though I felt shy about what he was doing. And I still wasn’t ready for what came after.
He didn’t speak again. He got to work on me like a starving man at a buffet. My panties disappeared so fast it felt like they dissolved into thin air. The air wasn’t as cold anymore, but it felt cool against my most sensitive bare skin.
But not for long. His lips were there too quickly for me to even catch a breath, kissing me and stroking me with his calloused hands.
“Oh!”
His tongue slid up and down the line where my lips met. It was only the second time anyone had ever done it to me, and it was overwhelming. Last time, I had stopped him so fast. Now, I was wondering why I’d been so stupid. I didn’t know anything could feel this good. His breath fanned my bare pussy and I nearly flew off the couch.
“Mmm . . . you taste delicious.”
The sarcastic part of me wanted to ask ‘really?’ but I never got a chance. He was too busy proving to me that he really did find me delicious. He licked me like he was licking a bowl for the last of the ice cream. My fingers wound their way into his hair without my noticing. I tugged at it, arching my back and gasping for air.
He added a finger to the mix, rubbing it gently against my clit. I couldn’t imagine anything feeling better. Until he switched and pulled my clit into his mouth. Then he strummed his tongue against me. Hard.
I felt his finger slide inside me as the first orgasm hit. I arched off the couch, nearly falling off. For the first time, I wished for a bed. I was ready to float back down to reality but Callaway had other ideas. He leaned back to look at me. I was out of breath and fuzzy around the edges. My eyes focused as he leaned in and blew cool air against my sensitive flesh.
“I’m not finished with you yet,” he murmured with a wicked grin.
That was it. I was wide awake. I stared in fascination as he stuck his tongue out slowly and dragged the tip up my pussy. I nearly screamed with pleasure.
This time, he didn’t let me come right away. He teased me endlessly, keeping me on the brink. I whimpered in frustration as he paused and stroked my nipples and winked. I wanted to slap that knowing smirk off his face. But not as badly as I wanted to shove his head back between my thighs.
Actually, I want more.
I froze, realizing I was thinking about him. His body. Inside mine. I wanted to do it. The big it. The ‘it’ that I had resisted for so long.
“Sweetheart?”
Callaway’s expression let me know he was thinking exactly what I was thinking.
I shook my head. It was too soon. We were on a couch. I hadn’t even seen him without his clothes yet. He moaned in disappointment and gave me a quick smile to let me know he wasn’t mad.
“But . . .”
His eyes swept to mine, looking hopeful.
“Maybe we could do this . . . some more? And I could do it, you know, to you?”
He shut his eyes and grimaced.
“Oh, God. Yes. Okay. Yes.” He looked at me, and I saw the crazy look in his eyes. He was worked up and trying to play like he wasn’t. He looked like he was on the edge of sanity. “But maybe we could go into my bedroom.”
I looked toward the hallway, then back at Callaway. I gave him a tiny nod. I wanted more. Just not . . . everything. But close.
And soon.
If I kept seeing him, it was a done deal. And I doubted I could stop this now, even if I wanted to. Sure, I was worried that a guy like him would hurt me. I was sure he wasn’t a one-woman guy. But maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be.