Laid Bare - Lauren Dane [36]
Each time he gave the words up freely, each time he did what he wanted, what he craved, it got easier the next time. It wasn’t as if there was a manual for all this stuff, but with her it wasn’t necessary. With Erin on her knees before him, Todd knew they’d work it through, find ways to pleasure each other, keep each other wanting more, without pain, without disrespect, with . . . love.
There hadn’t been a single moment, a time when the clouds had parted and the angels sang that he loved her. He just knew he did. Maybe he’d loved her a long time, tucked away in his mind for all these years. Maybe it had been when she leapt into his arms moments before. What mattered was that he felt it, and even better, he knew it.
Thought skittered away as her left hand slid between her thighs and she gasped around him. Her fingers were touching her cunt, he knew. He wished he could see more, but at the same time what he could see only forced him—ha, forced—to imagine it. Which, actually, was just as good.
He heard the wet sounds of her fingers playing through the juicy folds of her pussy; the scent of her arousal teased him as he continued to fuck into her mouth.
She pressed the tip of her tongue down the center of his cock each time she swallowed him, a line of pleasure, something new and entirely delightful.
He was close to coming, and the increasingly jerky movement of the hand between her thighs told him she was as well. He let go, coming in a hot rush, filling her.
“Don’t come yet,” he warned as a needy sound echoed around him. He pulled out and knelt before her. She swayed a bit, her eyes wide, face flushed. Her chest heaved and he knew she was a hairs-breadth from coming.
He touched her gently, his palms pushing the hem of her dress upward, exposing the vee between her thighs. Bare, wet—the scent of her honey tightened his gut and he leaned down, breathing her in.
Her fingers still curled there, shiny with her juice. Fuck. Fuck, he was in so deep with her. She moved him when he imaged himself quite beyond being touched in such a way.
“You want to finish, don’t you?”
Erin focused her gaze on him, the tendrils of climax still holding her close, beckoning. She’d never actually let another person hold her orgasm before. It was ridiculous and yet beyond intoxicating to hand him that power.
One twitch of her fingers and she’d fall. She thought of it, holding her hand still. Their gazes locked. His taste rang through her system; his cock was still out of his jeans, partially reviving. He was so near, the heat from him radiated across her skin.
She swallowed hard, trying to find words. A nod was all she managed.
He took her wrist, gently moving her fingers away from her cunt. Her breath caught as he lowered his face, on his hands and knees now, to her pussy.
Nothing at first, just the soft waft of his breath against her thighs. She had to fight the urge to strain upward to his mouth. He hadn’t said she could. So she remained still, waiting . . .
“Good god, what you do to me,” he said, his lips just barely brushing her labia. The subtle sensation sent a shock wave of heat through her. “You can touch your nipples or me,” he said right before the slick of his tongue slid through her cunt.
She didn’t think to touch her nipples; all she could do was brace herself with her hands on the floor behind her ass where she knelt, her back arched, her thighs widening.
She wanted to watch him, but bright stars painted her vision with each small flutter of his tongue against her pussy, so she closed her eyes and felt. Her muscles began to burn from kneeling; sweat broke out on the back of her neck and she licked dry lips.
One more flutter of his tongue and a gasp wrenched from low in her gut. Orgasm rocketed through her body, rolling in waves until she had to beg him to stop.
He kissed her while her eyes were still closed, and they tumbled back to the area rug.
When she opened her eyes again, he looked down and she saw the tenderness in his gaze. Inside she knew