Naturally Naughty - Leslie Kelly [23]
Her answer emerged from both her energized, aroused body, and also from a lonely, empty place in her heart. She wanted to be close to someone. Held by someone.
Taken by someone.
“More sure than I’ve been about anything in a long time.”
He didn’t ask again. Lifting her at the waist, he sat her up on the table and continued to feast on her neck. Her earlobe. Her collarbone. Tangling his fingers in her hair. She parted her legs, and he stepped between them, making her hiss as his big erection came directly in contact with her thin, wet panties.
He couldn’t seem to stop touching her. Her arms, her thighs, her face. She was just as greedy, tugging his shirt up so she could slip her hands beneath. She felt his washboard stomach, the light furring of hair, then tugged the shirt off.
He was glorious—a woman’s erotic dream, with the kind of long, lean body she’d fantasized about earlier that afternoon.
“Can I tell you something?” she asked in a hazy whisper.
“Anything,” he replied, pulling her blouse free of her skirt. He began to slip the buttons open, one by one, his fingers creating intense friction as they brushed against her bare belly and midriff. She shivered, lost her train of thought and strained toward his hands. Her breasts felt heavy and full and if he didn’t touch them soon, she’d go crazy.
“Tell me, Kate,” he said, finishing the unbuttoning and leaving her blouse hanging from her shoulders. He glanced down at her, his eyes darkening with desire.
Kate had never felt such a fierce sense of satisfaction about her own body. She did now, though. She liked herself because of the appreciation in his eyes as he studied her. Her skirt was pulled all the way up to her hips, exposing her thigh-high stockings and her tiny white silk panties. And the curves of her breasts, barely contained in the skimpy lacy bra.
But he still didn’t touch them. Didn’t caress them as she wanted him to. She whimpered and leaned into his hands. Offering herself. Hissing as her nipples brushed his index finger.
He moved his palms to cup her around the ribs. With his thumbs, he lightly touched her nipples, easily visible behind the lace of her bra. Then he moved them again, a tiny flick, a taunting caress. Knowing why he waited, she admitted, “I wanted you so much earlier today, I had to…to…”
“Yes?” Another flick, too gentle. She wanted more, wanted him to push the fabric away and take her nipples between his lips and suck deeply. Her breasts were ultra-sensitive; it wouldn’t take much more than that for her to come.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
“I had to touch myself,” she admitted.
He rewarded her with a longer stroke, sliding two fingers into her bra and taking her nipple between them. Then he stopped again. “Where?”
“In my old bed.”
He chuckled lazily and resumed the all too brief flicks of thumb against nipple, accompanying the touches with tantalizing love bites to her neck. “I meant where on your body?”
She groaned in frustration. “Where do you think?”
“Here?” he asked, covering her breasts with both hands, cupping their fullness.
“Oh, finally!”
“So you did touch your breasts?”
She shook her head, desperate for more. “No, but that’s exactly where I want you to touch.”
“You’ve got me curious, Kate.” He kissed his way down her neck, pushing her back farther on the table until she was nearly reclining. Then he moved his lips down. Over the curve of her breast. Scraping his teeth along the lace, slipping his tongue beneath it to lick her nipple.
She jerked hard, her hot core grinding against him. “Curious? You’ve got me ready to sing the Hallelujah Chorus!”
“Hey, no singing,” he scolded, lifting his mouth from her.
“I promise,” she said between harsh pants. “No singing. But please, don’t stop touching me or I’ll scream.”
“I want you to scream,” he murmured, staring down into her face, his eyes lit with passion. “I want us both to scream because it feels so good there’s no other way to express it.”
Finally he deftly