Page 51 of Careless Hope
As I continued to explore her with my mouth, I felt her body tremble beneath me. I could feel the heat between her legs, and the way her hips bucked against my face. I could tell she was close to coming, and I wanted nothing more than to give her that release.
“Caroline,” I whispered hoarsely, my voice shaking with the intensity of my desire. “Do you want to come?”
She nodded, her eyes wide and full of longing.
I slipped a second, then third finger inside her, feeling her clench around me as I worked my magic, my tongue flicking and teasing at her most sensitive spot.
“Caroline, I’m going to make you come so fucking hard,” I promised, my voice ragged with need. “All over my mouth, baby. I want to drink you in.” I growled.
She whimpered.
“Yes,” she breathed, her hands clutching at my hair as she arched her back, her legs shaking uncontrollably.
I felt her entire body go tense, her breaths ragged as she let out a long, drawn out moan. Her grip tightened on my hair,pulling me closer, and I could feel her juices coating my fingers as she came. Her hips bucked and thrust against my face, her back arching and her legs shaking with the force of her climax.
I held her there, riding out her orgasm, feeling her body tremble and quake beneath me. I continued to kiss and lick her, savoring the taste of her, the sound of her, the feel of her.
When her orgasm subsided, she collapsed back against the couch, breathing heavily. I pulled my fingers out of her and licked them, tasting her and savoring her.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, my heart still racing from the intensity of the experience.
“I’ve never been so okay,” she said with a laugh, her eyes still shut.
“Good.” I said, unable to stop the smirk from taking hold of my lips.
She slowly sat up, bringing her lips to mine and kissing me with a passion I hadn’t expected. Caroline was coming into her own, and it was a sight to behold.
“But now,” she said, grasping my shirt in a tight fist, “I really am going to suck your cock.”
17
Caroline
“Walker,come on. I’m asking you to fuck me, not marry me.”
One week later, I was almost ready to get on my knees and beg for this man to show me how to get it on. We’d spent days mastering the art of oral sex and I was now determined to move on to the big league.
The glow of the lamplight cast shadows across my room as I sat on the edge of my bed, nervously fidgeting with the hem of my cotton tank top. Walker leaned against the doorframe, his casual posture belying the intensity in his light blue eyes.
“Caroline,” he drawled, the corners of his mouth tilting up ever so slightly, “are you sure about this? I mean, fooling around and flirting is one thing. But going all the way is another.”
“Going all the way? We’re not in high school anymore, Walk.”
“Shit. I know it.”
I exhaled a shaky breath, feeling the weight of my own inexperience like a heavy blanket wrapped around me. The room felt suddenly too small, the walls inching closer as I met his gaze.
“And no,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “No, I’m not sure. Not about you. About myself.” My admission hung in the air between us, thick with vulnerability.
Walker pushed away from the doorframe and took a few deliberate steps toward me, his boots silent on the carpet. He crouched down to my eye level, his presence simultaneously comforting and unnerving.
“Talk to me, Caroline,” he urged softly.
I drew in a deep breath, the scent of hay and leather that perpetually clung to him filling my senses. “It’s just . . . I spent so much time buried in textbooks, learning how to save other people’s lives, I never really . . . learned how to live my own,” I confessed, the words tumbling out as if they had a life of their own. “Especially not my . . . sexual life.” Saying it out loud, to Whittier Falls’ infamous playboy made heat flood my cheeks.
He nodded, his expression serious. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Caroline.”
“Isn’t it though?” I chuckled bitterly, my fingers still twisting the fabric of my gown. “I’m a thirty-three-year-old woman who’s more familiar with medical charts than . . . well, than what goes on with two people behind closed doors.”
