Page 71 of How to Deal
And then he’s naked before me, and my panties are gone. How that towel made it this long is surprising.
He doesn’t give me much of a chance to worship his body before he’s removing my dress eagerly. And then he stops once it’s off and stares at every curve.
Just when he leans in, I think he’s going to say something sexy, make me scream out in pleasure just from his words.
“Where’s your dog?” he whispers. Some amusement, some concern.
“With Jade.”
He cocks an eyebrow and pulls back as though this is the right time to say this. “Did you know she’s a stripper?”
Seriously? He’s been teasing me for weeks, and now he wants to talk?
“Tathan?” The desire clenches in my stomach. I can’t take this much longer.
“Yes?”
“Fuck me.”
I don’t have to do much else to convince him before his kiss finds my swollen lips. His tongue searches mine, giving me everything I need with just that one kiss. As crazy as it sounds.
Cradling my face in his talented hands so he can kiss me even deeper, it’s all hunger and passion and whispers of need until he stops and gives me a look I know. It’s want. Undeniable gasping want. The kind that lets you know you’ve waited too long.
He’s silent as his hands push me back down on the bed, hovering over me, gazing down at what I know now he’s dying to take. Lust fills his eyes before his head dips down meeting my lips and then pulls my nipple into his mouth. I jerk forward, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Oh God, Tathan!”
He growls, too focused to stop,as if that sound is what he’s been dying to hear for months.
I bet it is, too. I know he’s been dreaming about this for a while. It’s one of those encounters where your entire body tingles with each touch because you’ve wanted itthatbad.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, sucking on my ear when I wrap my legs around his waist, his hips flexing forward to where his dick is at my entrance with the slightest bit of pressure. “You have to tell me how bad you want this.”
He’s a tease.
His touch passes over my clit. It’s a deliberate torture I can’t take, and I want him inside. Fuck this rubbing shit. “We could get plastered, and I could take you unwillingly again if you prefer that. . . .” My head twists on the pillow to peer up at him just about the time he sucks in a breath at the sensations. “Either way,we’re having sex.”
He gives me nothing but a heated glance, a low rumble to his breath as he goes to work. Gripping my ass, he gives into one last long seductive grind into his erection that reminds me just how much I enjoyed dry humping in high school. Safe, but oh so pleasurable.
It’s clear just how much sexual tension has been building for months. It’s one of those sexual encounters that will be all grunting and sticky skin as we pound into one another. Part of me was worried we would rush through this, and I didn’t want that at all. I said one date, and I meant it. At the time.
Before he can do anything else, I raise my hands up to his shoulders and give a little push. He resists at first, but then knows I have something I want to do first.
He knows exactly what I have planned when he’s lying where I once was. His hands go behind his head with a smile.
It’s right then with the light coming in from the bathroom that I get a good look at him naked, this time my memory isn’t foggy, and I know I’ll remember this.
My gaze wanders over the sharp edges of his cut hips that give way to what I’vebeen wantingto get a good look at these last few months. He’s not overly huge, but he’s not small either, and I can’t wait to get that inside of me.
My heart races as I look up at him with my head inches from what I’ve so desperately wanted to ride the last six months. “You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?”
“Look at me.” Our eyes meet as my lips wrap around his tip and suck. “Oh yeah, I’ve been dreaming about that.”
“When?” It’s hard to speakaroundhim, but I do because I really want to know what exactly he’s been dreaming about and if it matches my fantasies.
“Every time I look at your mouth, I think about it doing things to me.” His brow arches, but when Imake the moveto take him all the way in, I can tell it’s hard for him to keep talking. “Why do you think I didn’t come into the office all week?”
I stop and sit up. Frustration marks his eyes that I stopped. “Seriously?”
He sits up on his elbows and peers down at me. I know he’s restraining himself from just shoving my face in his lap. “I got a taste of you. Just a little fucking taste. Two weeks ago, I got another small taste.” I suck in a breath as he continues, my palms flat against his upper thighs. “So asking what I dream about”—he shakes his head—“I’m sure you can imagine why.”
