Desire in Lingerie (Lingerie 7)

I picked up the lacy material and felt it in my fingertips. It had a tight waistband so it would hug my frame before it flared out around my hips. There were no panties with it, so I assumed he didn’t want me to wear any.

I changed out of my clothes and pulled it on, letting the thin material hug me. My nipples were visible, and the color of the fabric contrasted against my dark skin. I wondered if he’d picked this out for me, or if it was lingerie he had from another woman.

I shook the thought away because I knew Bones would never do that.

I was the only woman who actually mattered to him.

I wasn’t sure how he wanted to take me, so I sat on my knees in the center of the bed and waited for him to finish in the bathroom.

When he opened the door, he was stripped down to his bare skin. He was six-three of muscle, skin, and ink. His blue eyes were the only color he had to contrast against his white skin and black tattoos. His cock was stiff before he even came out of the bathroom, the copious amounts of alcohol in his bloodstream having no effect on his ability to get hard as a rock. His big dick was ready to go, and when he looked at me, his eyes showed his arousal increase by tenfold.

I sat on my folded knees in the center of his bed, looking at the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. If our family history weren’t so bloody, he would be the perfect man for me. If he quit his current career choice and agreed to a quiet life, I would demand for him to get down on one knee and make me his wife. I didn’t need to spend years with him to know he was the love of my life, the only man I wanted to have forever.

From his bright eyes to his cold exterior, I loved everything about him. I loved his constant subtle hostility, his enormous size, and his unbridled confidence. I loved the way he fearlessly wore his heart on his sleeve, not ashamed for loving a woman, like most men would be. He was so strong, so masculine, that he could dress in all pink, and it wouldn’t make him any less manly. He was the only man I’d ever met who had the kind of strength I was attracted to, the only man I thought was man enough for me.

He stood at the edge of the bed, his large cock leaning against the mattress as his crown started to drool. His eyes roamed over my body, taking particular interest in the way the fabric hugged my tits and barely covered my nipples. His eyes moved farther south, looking at my waist and my legs. His gaze shifted back up to my eyes. “How do you want me, baby?” He dropped his knees onto the bed, the mattress sinking underneath his weight.

I looked up at him as my pussy started to get wet. I didn’t have any panties on to catch the moisture, so I felt more exposed than usual. “I want you to make love to me.”

His eyes contained his intensity, but the corner of his mouth slightly rose in the form of a gentle smile. “You always want me to make love to you.”

“You asked what I wanted…” In the beginning, all we did was have animalistic sex. It was about getting hot and sweaty and hitting climaxes that didn’t mean anything. But now I wanted all of him every time. I liked it slow and deep. I wanted his kisses on my mouth and his warm breath on my cheek. I wanted to feel connected to the man I loved, feel him claim all of me. “Are you going to give it to me or not?”

He stopped above me and slid his hand underneath the fall of my hair. He pulled on the strands, forcing my chin up to look at him head on. “My baby never has to ask twice.” His other arm hooked around my waist, and he maneuvered me until my head landed on the pillow. He set himself on top of me, his muscled thighs separating mine until he’d completely pressed me into the mattress. His mouth hung above mine, but he didn’t kiss me as he directed his gaze on me.

My hands moved up his tattooed chest, and I felt the strength under his warm skin. I let my fingers travel over his collarbone to his muscular shoulders. Then I moved them up the back of his neck and into his hair, feeling the short and soft strands. My eyes remained on his the entire time, seeing him stare back at me with the same concentration. I loved the way he looked at me, like he’d never looked at another woman that way in his life. I loved the way he made me feel like the center of his universe with just his gaze. His cock wasn’t inside me, but I felt like he was making love to me without even feeling me. Being the recipient of that gaze was enough for me to feel the arousal underneath my skin, to feel the love he gave me every single day.