His fingers tuck into the strap of my tank top, pulling it down, exposing my nipple to the frigid air, making it harden even more.
“And what about here?” Leaning down further, he wraps his lips around the peak, pulling my nipple into the warmth of his mouth.
“Oh, God. Yes.” Jesus, I’m already a puddle.
I can hear his smile in the moan he releases. It infuriates me, but not enough to make him stop.
My hand reaches around the back of his head, and I grip his hair between my fingertips, holding him in place as his tongue circles around my nipple. His hand trails up my other arm until he finds the strap and pulls it down, exposing me fully.
He moves freely between both nipples, giving them shared attention. Goosebumps break out all over my body when he leaves one for the other as the crisp air coats the sensitive tips, giving me a secondary sensation my body is completely unsure of.
I moan, tossing my head back and close my eyes as he teases me, and I realize he’s completely undone in a matter of a minute.
Bracing myself, I hold one hand against his arm while the other has a white knuckle grip on his hair. The bumpy tree bark scrapes my skin as my body presses into it, but nothing can overpower the feeling of his mouth on my body. His tongue feels like magic against my skin and his hands hold me like I’m his sole source of air.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt a connection, something deeper than just the physical sensation. It’s like he knows exactly what I need and he’s spent a lifetime studying for it.
Every touch is sensual.
Every kiss is personal.
Every look is pleasurable agony.
I squeeze my eyes closed, attempting to hide the emotions that rip through my body. His passion, his desire, the desperate need is adding to my sensual state and I question my emotional wellbeing.
Changing pace, he grabs my wrists, yanking them over my head, and presses me hard against the tree.
My breath hitches as my eyes snap open, and I panic. My body bucks in dispute, as I look up at his hands holding me in place. My chest heaves as my breath quickens, and I’m unable to hide my fear.
He squints as he appraises my expression, looking up at where his hands are covering mine then back down at my face. He lets go immediately, taking a step back, tilting his head, giving me a look of uncertainty and confusion.
He goes to take another step back, but I reach out and grab his hand, placing them on my hips.
I’m not scared of him. I don’t want him to stop. In fact, I want him more than I can admit. But he can’t dothat, not here. I don’t know how to tell him or if I ever want to, so before he can ask I pull him in flush against my body.
“What was that, Mimi?” he asks anyway.
“Touch me,” I say, ignoring him.
His questioning eyes inspect me with concern.
“Please,” I beg, pulling him closer. “It’s been a really long time for me,” I embarrassingly confess.
He growls and leans back into me.
I tuck my hands underneath his shirt and run my hands over his body. I can feel the hard ridges of his muscular torso and Ilose count of how many abdominal muscles my fingers roam over.
I push my hips into his, feeling the length of his hard erection behind his jeans.
Sucking in a breath between clenched teeth, his hips roll into mine, and I can’t help but moan at the sensation, at the idea that he’s losing a bit of that control he holds onto so tight.
Releasing my hip, his hand stretches the waistband of my leggings as he reaches inside. The pads of his fingers swipe through my wet slit and he groans in approval.
A whimper escapes me in response as his finger finds my clit, and he rubs circles around the tip.
My body grinds against his, asking for more—needing more. It’s been so long, too long.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Mimi?” His lips graze my ear.
