Her back arches as I tease her clit, bringing the sweetest noises from her lips to my ears. “I…I was going to try sitting on your lap. I even wore this robe just for you.”
“Atta girl.” My hands find the tie of her robe, pulling gently until it gives way and slips down her shoulders. There she is. My beautiful fucking muse is bare in front of me, and she’s even more breathtaking than I had imagined. She’s like a feast and I don’t know where to start. “I’ll take care of you, baby.”
Her hand is back in my hair, switching between pulling it hard and running her nails over my scalp. I move her underwear to the side and tease her clit with my thumb. I want to sink into her endlessly, and she’s so fucking wet right now, I could. When I slide my finger through her folds, her hips buck, begging for me.
“I want to know everything about you,” I hum against her ear, two fingers slowly pushing into her pulsing cunt. “I want to know about your fantasies and what turns you on. I want to find every spot that makes you scream. Say my name again.”
“Oh god, James! Just like that!” She coos, her head rocking back when I curl my fingers and rub against her G-spot.
“Good girl. Now don’t stop saying it until you fucking come.” Our mouths slot together like they were made for each other.
CHAPTER18
FIRST DAY OF MY LIFE
??? BRIGHT EYES
In a haze,I find only three words. So, I yell them out. “Please don’t stop!”
His mouth takes hold of my nipple and he swirls his tongue. Before I can say his name again, he’s biting down and I scream as I ride his hand. He’s going above and beyond to make up for edging me at the bar. His teeth graze my breast and my back snaps hard while the most beautiful fireworks fill my vision.
When I open my eyes, he’s licking his fingers clean with a smile of satisfaction. When he’s done, he grabs my face and the kisses are long and lazy, neither of us in a hurry for them to end. Eventually, his mouth wanders again, this time finding my pulse point and sucking it while I recover beneath him.
“You okay, Angel?” His low, deep voice has me vibrating with even more pleasure. I nod, not sure if I remember how words work yet. “Can I get you anything?”
I shake my head, and he lays his forehead against my shoulder. I melt into him, letting my fingers slide under his hoodie and trace drowsy shapes over his warm skin. His heart slows as his breathing becomes more rhythmic than chaotic, the softness of my touch over his muscles making him relax against me. There’s no way he doesn’t notice my body go stiff when I trace over a large patch of rough skin and jagged scars along his side. I don’t need to see them to get a sense of how terribly painful this must have been.
“Jamie?”
“Later,” he whispers as his hands continue exploring all of me. His touch is equal parts therapeutic and sexual to me. Each time I tense or jerk away, he stills there against my skin, allowing me to breathe through it. Later will inevitably come for me, too. For now, we’re just brushing the surface; enjoying the rush of a new…whatever this is.
“Should, uhm, should we talk about that?” I pry my fingers from him and pull my robe back up over my shoulders. “I mean, what we…what you…”
He stops leaving marks along my neck and looks at me, that deep, heartbreaking sadness back in his eyes. “Shit, was that not?—”
“What?! No, it was… I mean… that was…”
We both sigh with relief, followed immediately by laughter. It’s a sensation fueled by euphoria, genuine and beautiful. I brush his fluffy hair from his beautiful eyes. Even now, when he’s happy, I can still see the sorrow hiding inside him. Could it be the scars or something deeper?
“You’re pretty when you laugh like that.” His fingers trace over my face, like he’s mapping me out for future reference, which he could be. He is an artist. A shiver runs through me as I think of myself being painted in some weird mural someday. It makes me wonder if he does this with all the women who scream his name while they lose themselves to him. It’s possible he has a collection of sketches or paintings of all his conquests.
“Pretty? I can handle pretty.”
“Pretty is all I’ve got right now. I can’t think of anything but you.”
“Are we, uhm, are we really doing this?”
He glances around the room before he returns his focus back at me. “What? Standing in your kitchen trying to figure out how I’m here with an incredible woman like you?”
“Technically? I’m sitting, you’re standing.” I’m also blushing—hard.
“Barely,” he grins, moving closer for another series of slow, languid kisses. This time, he breaks the kiss, sliding his nose along mine. “You’re so soft and warm, I can’t stop touching you.”
“Oh, moving up the scale from pretty now?” I hook my fingers into the sweatpants. “My turn to hear you scream, pretty boy.”
“No.” He lets go of my face and grabs my wrists, pulling them away from him.
“What, really?”
