One-Eighty (Westover Prep 1)

My chest heats with a mixture of anticipation and shyness. We’ve been this far before, but it’s still so new, I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the feel of his eyes on me. Although I’m exposed and vulnerable to him, it’s the look of pure reverence in his eyes that lets me know I’m safe with him.

“Only if you want to,” he answers, but as the words leave his lips, his mouth lowers to the tip of my right breast.

Warm heat surrounds my nipple, and it’s sensation overload, enough that it makes my knees nearly buckle.

I urge him toward his bed, but he seems content to just stand in the middle of the room and lave at my flesh with his wicked tongue.

“Tell me if this doesn’t turn you on.”

“Dalton,” I cup his cheeks in my hands, forcing him to look up at me, “everything you do turns me on. Finish undressing me.”

He nods, his head shifting in my hands before I release him. His lips find mine as he works to open the button on my shorts and shoves them over my hips. They fall to the floor, and I kick off my shoes so I can clear my body of my clothes. Now, I’m standing in his room in nothing but my panties, but it’s his mouth on mine that I focus on. I’ve missed everything about him, but his mouth on me is what I’ve longed for the most. The way his lips move against mine removes all doubt about how he feels for me.

His kiss is powerful, worshipping, and when he groans as our tongues touch, I know that I’ll never get enough of him.

As much as I love his lips against mine, my body burns with the need for more. I want it all, all of him, all of this, all of it for eternity.

“Dalton,” I whisper against his lips, “we need to get on the bed.”

Without pulling his lips from mine, he grabs me behind my thighs and lifts me until my legs are wrapped around his body.

“You’re still dressed,” I complain as he lowers us to his bed.

“And I’m going to stay that way for now.” I pout as his hands skate down my body, my stomach trembling under his fingers. “If I pull my cock out now, I’m going to want inside of you.”

“That’s the goal,” I remind him.

“And I still have a promise to keep.”

He pushes his body back, settling between my thighs, resting on his haunches. His eyes rove over me from my kiss-swollen lips and down my stomach until they rest between my thighs. The shaking in my body is renewed with his perusal, but I stiffen when his fingers begin to trace over the scars on my inner thighs.

“I will tell you every day how sorry I am for this.” His touch is gentle, the tips of his fingers barely making contact, but his eyes don’t well with tears this time, and for that I’m grateful.

When he lowers his head, my core clenches with anticipation, but his lips spend time kissing each and every one of the scars. It’s as if I heal from the inside out, and even though the flaws will remain, they no longer matter. If anything, they’ll merely serve as a reminder of how we got here today.

“Dalton,” I plead when his mouth ghosts over my most sensitive flesh so he can kiss the scars on the other side. “Please.”

He smiles, tilting his gorgeous face up so I can see his eyes. “Patience, Piper.”

He keeps his eyes focused on mine as his fingers trace the lines of my panties from my hip to my center without touching me where I need him the most.

“Touch me.”

“I am,” he teases. “And I’m going to have to combine a couple of things together today, because as much as I want you to have patience, mine is quickly running out.”

“C-combine?” I pant when his thumb brushes over my clit.

“We’re going to have to do fingers and mouth together today, baby. That okay?”

I nod enthusiastically, and he laughs at my eagerness. “I didn’t think you’d have a problem with that.”

I lift my hips when it’s clear he wants my last piece of clothing gone, but when he tosses them away and looks down, his mouth hangs open.

“Jesus… I… fuck, baby. You’re pretty here, too.” When his thumbs spread me open, my face burns with embarrassment. “So pink and perfect. Makes my mouth water for a taste.”

Is he just staring at me? God, it makes me want to crawl in a hole and hide.

“Can I taste you, Piper?”

As much as I want to tell him no and beg him to stop staring at my most delicate flesh, my body has other demands.

“Y-yes,” I answer, trying to ignore the urge to clamp my thighs together.