Sultry Escapes: Waking Up to You

She pouted. “Keep going. You definitely don’t have to stop on my account.”

“We’ll get there. But fair’s fair. You’re still fully dressed.”

“You can fix that for me.”

“I’d be happy to.”

He tugged the boots off her feet, then gently palmed and massaged her arches. When his fingers slipped up under her pant legs, the brush of skin on skin made her internal temperature soar. An hour ago she’d been freezing. Now she knew a spark had just ignited and she was going up in flames.

Her skinny jeans were tight, and he couldn’t move his hand nearly high enough to satisfy her, so she stretched out and began to wriggle, reaching for her waistband.

“No. Let me,” he insisted.

Still kneeling on the floor, he touched his way up her limbs, slowly, deliberately. By the time those talented fingers reached the tops of her thighs, she was groaning. She couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like when he finally got her undressed. Fortunately, she knew she wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.

“Please, hurry,” she whispered when he traipsed his knuckles up the strip of fabric covering the zipper.

“You’re not the patient sort, are you?”

“If you go negative-two miles an hour I might just have to kill you,” she admitted, whimpering when he reached for the button and unfastened her jeans.

“We have all night,” he insisted, not sounding the least bit prodded to speed up. “I’ve been thinking about this—dreaming about it—since the minute we met. There’s no way in hell I’m rushing through it.”

“Ditto,” she admitted. Then, being honest, she added, “The thinking and the dreaming part, I mean. I’m all about rushing.”

Fast and hard. Deep and wild. She was dying to be filled by him, possessed, pounded into and taken.

“Sorry, beautiful. It’s not happening.”

He slid the zipper down slowly. She could practically hear the teeth separating, the faint hiss competing with the roar of the wind outside, the crackling of the fire and the pounding of her blood in her veins.

When he’d finished unzipping her, she lifted her hips, shimmying to help him as he pulled the pants down, peeling them off and baring her legs. To her disappointment, he didn’t slide his hands down the front of her groin, didn’t take the skimpy panties with the jeans. But she really hadn’t expected him to. Aside from what he’d just admitted, Oliver had already proven himself to be a very patient man. He was going to take his time, go slow, wring every ounce of pleasure out of each and every experience they shared.

“I will, too,” she told herself, whispering it aloud. “I can do this.”

“You will and can what?”

“I’ll go slow,” she promised. Then he traced the tip of his finger along the elastic edge of her panties and she whimpered. “Oh, God, yes, please, rip them off. Take me!”

His chuckle was pure evil. “That’s not going slow.” He slid his finger below the elastic, scraping it into the soft tuft of curls nesting at the top of her sex, then away again.

“I said slow, not in slow motion,” she groaned, her hips thrusting up as a nameless but very familiar need took over.

“We’re just getting started,” he insisted, moving his hands to the bottom hem of her blouse.

Okay, that detour she could allow. Her breasts were aching, her nipples pointy and so sensitized her own shirt was giving her a thrill. His mouth and hands would likely send her out of her mind.

“God, you’re beautiful. It killed me not to be able to look down at you last night when I touched your breasts,” he whispered as he pushed the blouse up, revealing her tummy and her midriff. “Stay still. Let me explore you.”

Being explored sounded good. Very good. She could be the wilds of undiscovered America and he could go all Lewis and Clark over every hill, valley and stream. She just hoped those hills were her breasts, the valley her pelvis and the stream the flood of creamy desire filling her sex.

He lowered his face so he could press a kiss on her hip bone. She felt the warmth of his breath on her skin, so close to her panty line, and instinctively rose to offer him more, praying he was eschewing the hills and valleys and going for the stream.

He moved in the other direction, though, kissing his way up the indentation of her pelvis, to her belly button.

She let out a groan that was half pleasure, half frustration. Ignoring her, he continued to push her blouse up, moving his mouth after it. Inch by inch, he explored her body, licking into each hollow between every rib, testing her, tasting her, breathing her in. It was wonderful, erotic…and frustrating. She was whimpering and twisting below him, wanting him to hurry up, but not ever wanting this to end.

He reached her bra, which opened with a front clasp. She held her breath, tensing as he touched the fastener with his thumb and finger, and deftly flicked it open, revealing her curves for his most delicious attention. He paused for a moment, staring, as if memorizing every line and dip. Her nipples were tight buds, pink and pointy, obviously begging for some attention.

But when he again began to trace his mouth over her, he focused on her sternum, kissing his way right up between her sensitive breasts, his smooth cheeks brushing against the sides but making no effort to suck away some of her tension. Nor did his teasing hand offer any relief, as he simply continued those light, delicate strokes over her belly, her pelvis and her upper thighs, never giving her what she really needed.

“Oh, God,” she groaned, every inch of her burning. Her senses were so deliciously heightened the pleasure was almost pain. She’d never felt anything like it, never been so totally keyed up and ready.

Shudders coursed through her body, her muscles tensing, every inch of her aware and anxious. But he didn’t give her any relief. He was entirely focused on what he was doing. He seemed to love the curve of her collarbone, which he sampled and scraped his teeth across. He found something delightfully kissable in the hollow of her throat. Here he licked. There he pressed his face and breathed her in. Here and there, there and here.

It was wonderful. Erotic. The anticipation was beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

But she was dying. Just dying. Because every tender caress he placed on one part of her body only sent more currents of hot, electric desire to her core. her clit was so hard it ached, her sex was throbbing, all her nerve endings seemed to have bunched between her thighs.

Maybe because she’d only ever been with guys her own age, and those in the movie business, who were always on a schedule, she’d never had a lover take so much time, be so deliberate in every caress. Oliver seemed to savor every part of her he uncovered. He appeared determined to pay full, glorious attention to every inch of her body, leaving the choicest bits for last.

Her tummy and throat and, oh, the nape of her neck, adored him for it.

Her choicest bits were screaming for his attention.

“Shh,” he ordered.

“I didn’t say anything,” she groaned.

“Your thoughts are very loud, Candace.” He lifted his head to look at her, a smile of pure wickedness on his face. “I know what you want.”

“Well, mind reader, if I’ve been so obvious, why…”

“Oh, you’ve been very obvious,” he insisted with a low, sultry laugh. “And I’m looking forward to meeting your every demand.” He bent to slide his lips over her jaw, moving up until he reached her ear and traced the lobe with the tip of his tongue. “But I’d like to at least kiss you before I slide my tongue into your pussy and lick you until you don’t remember what planet you’re on.”

Bam. Explosion.

“Oh, God!”

She climaxed, just like that, from those words, from the weight of his hand on her thigh and the slide of his mouth on her cheek. Her whole body quaked, hot bolts of pleasure rocketing through her. This wasn’t a slow, pulsing wave; it was a tsunami, hitting her hard in every direction. As he’d insisted he wanted to, Oliver moved his mouth over hers, catching her gasps of pleasure with his lips, taking them in and swallowing them down.

When she finally regained a brain cell, she realized Oliver had somehow managed to tug her tiny panties off her hips and push them out of the way. They were tangled around her legs, and she kicked and bucked to get free of them. He helped, drawing them all the way off her.

His wickedly erotic words still echoed in her ears, and she held her breath, wondering if he would now go back to some of those choice bits for more attention. When he began to kiss his way down her body, she suspected that’s exactly what he intended.

“Oh, yes,” she groaned.

He ignored her, his mouth moving down between her breasts. But this time, thankfully, he detoured and pressed hot, openmouthed kisses on her breast. She was whimpering by the time that wonderful mouth moved to cover her nipple and cried out when he sucked it. He caught her other one in his fingers, teasing and tweaking, plumping her breast in his hand while continuing to suckle her into incoherence.