Reel (Hollywood Renaissance 1) - Page 78

He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tugs until I open for him. The kiss, when it comes, starts tender with nibbles and brushes, but it soon consumes, our tongues sliding together, our hands searching, seeking, gripping, and squeezing.

“Upstairs,” he gasps against the curve of my shoulder.

I nod, twining my fingers with his when he takes my hand, and he leads me up the steps. Lamps glow on either side of the bed, and the soft music has followed us, playing faintly in here, too.

He touches my face, running his knuckle over my cheekbone. “You’re beautiful, Neevah. It wasn’t the first thing I noticed about you, and it’s not the most important, but I want you to know.”

I reach up and brush my fingertips across the fullness of his lips. “And every time I make you smile, I feel like I’ve conquered the world.”

His eyes, heated and hungry, slide over me, from the crown of my head to my open-toe shoes. “Then make me smile.”

I’ve been waiting for this moment, but now that it’s here, I’m unsure where to start.

Does she hold nothing back?

Canon said he asked himself that question when he saw me perform in Splendor, and I know. The first thing I’ll do is give him everything.

My fingers find the tie of the halter at my neck, tugging until the top of the dress loosens and falls. The swell of my hips and ass anchors the dress on my body, but my torso—shoulders, stomach, breasts—is naked in the dim light.

With his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, Canon drags a finger across my collarbone, over the curve of my shoulder, down my arm to link our fingers. Tugging me closer, he looks down at me for long seconds. Not at my breasts, tight and heaving with anticipation, but into my eyes, and it makes me feel more exposed than the coolness of the air kissing my skin. I’m glass to him, he said, and he searches my eyes like he’s peering into my head, turning my soul over in his hands. I don’t even want to think about what he sees in my heart.

Just as I’m not sure I can bear the scrutiny anymore without his touch, he dips to kiss one nipple. My head drops back, exposing the line of my neck. He still holds one hand, and I tighten my grip on his fingers, needing the support to stand as his lips close around the tip, his teeth scraping gently. We are connected at only two points, our joined fingers and his mouth at my breast, but it feels like every inch of me is pressed to the length of him. My eyes are closed, but the air shifts in front of me when he drops to his knees. He releases my hand to grip my hips. I look down, and his eyes climb over me, starting with my belly button, skimming my stomach, and up my breasts until he reaches my face. His motions haven’t been hurried, and his hands haven’t been swift, so the wild hunger in his eyes startles me, and I realize he’s controlling it. He’s reined it in, and more than anything, I want to snap it like a twig.

I push at the silk puddled at my hips, coaxing the dress down my legs to pool around my shoes. I wind my fingers into the rough waves of his hair and subtly coax his head toward my bare pussy.

He breathes deeply and then rests his mouth against the lips, not opening me, or tasting.

“Jesus, Neev,” he says, his whisper a caress over my sensitive skin.

I want to push him so far over the edge of his restraint, there is no going back. I step out of my shoes and slip trembling fingers between my legs, passing over my clit and through the wetness dripping down my inner thighs.

His breaths grow labored as he follows the motion of my fingers with his eyes. When I pull my hand away, the air cools my fingertips. With deliberate boldness, I hold his stare and glaze his lips with my fingers, adorning his mouth with my wetness. He growls against my pussy, the vibration of it playing over my nerves like a timpani.

“Spread your legs,” he orders hoarsely.

I obey, widening my stance and waiting for his next move.

The breath stutters in my chest when his big fingers peel back the lips like petals, exposing the throbbing hood.

At first, he just licks it once.

I shudder, my knees almost failing me.

He pulls my whole clit into his mouth, sending an arrow of pleasure shooting through my body. His head bobs, his mouth moving against me with great force, with growing hunger. He cups my ass and nudges me back the few feet to the bed. With a gentle shove, I’m down, laid out on my back, completely nude while he is fully clothed, my legs dangling over the side of the bed, spread for him.

Tags: Kennedy Ryan Hollywood Renaissance Romance
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