Page 44 of His to Love
My pulse raced, my blood burned from the inside out. I took a step back and let him take my hand in his. I followed him through the living room and down the hall, passing two more doors before we entered his room. Light from the streetlamps outside cast a romantic glow over his large bed. The covers were pulled up, the bed made as if it was done hastily and without care when he rolled out of it this morning. Heat spread to the tops of my thighs and I turned slowly to face him.
“Hey,” I said, my voice small and weak. Nerves assaulted me as I stared up at him. He wasn’t the only man I’d had sex with. He was just the only man I’d ever made love to.
But that was ten years ago.
“You look terrified,” he said and slid his hand up and around to the back of my neck.
“I’m not. Just nervous.”
“About this?” He nodded toward the bed. A grin full of mirth stretched his lips. “We can always go somewhere else. The wall…the shower…”
A laugh burst from me and I shook my head again. “No.” I laughed again and relaxed when he joined me. “The bed is fine.”
One thick, black eyebrow arched. “Just fine?”
My grin matched his and I stepped toward him. “I’m sure it’ll be better than fine.” Rolling to my toes, I pressed myself closer, brushing my lips along his jaw. “I want this. Honest.”
His hand on my neck tightened, and he leaned forward, instantly claiming my mouth. His other hand went to my hip and with one quick lift, I was in the air and then being lowered onto the bed. Tyson adjusted us while I pushed with my feet, shifting farther onto the bed until Tyson was directly over me.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, sliding his hand from my back to my side and up my ribs. “More beautiful than I remember.”
Every time his fingers grazed my skin, heat flared, sending trails of burning need igniting in his wake. I pressed into him, desperate to be closer. To feel him. My hands slid down his back and I began pushing his shirt up and off his chest. He separated from me just long enough to grab the back of his shirt with one hand. He tugged it up and forward, flung it somewhere in the distance, and then did the same with my shirt. His head dropped and his lips pressed against my clavicle before sliding down and toward the center of my breasts. His hand covered one of my breasts, fondling it and pinching my nipple though the satin fabric.
“Tyson,” I mewled, arching into him and his touch. “Please,” I begged. “I need more.”
“Patience,” he murmured. His lips trailed farther down until his tongue came out and swirled around my belly button. My stomach muscles tightened and my fingers tangled in his short black hair, holding him to me. My need grew with every gentle and teasing brush of his lips against me until his tongue slid across the waistband of my denim jeans. Goosebumps flared on my exposed skin, making me shiver.
Tyson chuckled darkly and his hands began to work on my zipper. “These need to come off.”
I lifted my hips to help him. My eyes stayed trained on him as he slid them off my legs and my feet, discarding them in a pile on the floor. Then he knelt at the edge of the bed, tugging me toward him until my sex was directly in front of his mouth.
My breath stalled.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he muttered. “So damn long.”
His tongue glided along the seam of my panties before he began pressing soft and ticklish kisses all over my inner thighs. My fingers dug into his comforter and my hips rocked toward him.
He took his time with me, driving me crazy with every touch of his tongue on my sensitive flesh, sucking through my panties, teasing me along the outline of my underwear.
I panted and writhed.
My flesh burned.
“Ready?” he asked as his fingertips curled around the edge of my panties.
I gazed at him through heavy lids, unable to open my eyes all the way.
“Yes,” I whispered hoarsely. “Please.”
He leaned forward, ran his lips across the edge of my panties one more time before his hands twisted the white lace. With a firm tug, the lace tore, digging into my hips and causing a riot of sensations with the slight hint of pain.
My jaw dropped. “You just tore my underwear.”
His eyes narrowed on mine, a teasing glint barely noticeable in the dark room. “You’ll forgive me.”
And I did.
Immediately.
