She doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t move. Watches me as I trace the swell of her breast, the edge of lace, the dip between. My hand shakes a little as I slide lower, thumb skimming the delicate fabric, feeling the hard peak of her nipple through the lace.
Poppy swallows, throat working, lips parting on a shaky breath, it’s all I can do not to drop to my knees right then and there.
This is the most erotic moment I’ve had with a woman, honestly, finally mature enough to appreciate the curves, my fingers skimming over a tiny freckle above her left nipple, and I can’t help but lean in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to it.
Poppy shivers, her breath catching.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I murmur, trailing my lips down, kissing a path between her breasts, letting my tongue taste her skin, warm and sweet and impossibly soft. “Beautiful.”
Her hands find their way into my hair, nails scraping against my scalp as I circle her nipple with my tongue, feeling it tighten, pebbling up for me. I close my mouth around it, sucking gently through the fabric, letting my teeth graze enough to make her gasp.
I blow, watching it pucker more.
“Turner,” she breathes, head lilting back. “I can’t wait for you to fuck me.”
The mouth on her.
The confidence.
It’s intoxicating.
I’ve been drunk on her since the second I saw her standing in my kitchen.
“Yeah?” I murmur, voice rough as gravel. “You want me to fuck you, Poppy?”
“Yes,” she pants, back arching, pressing herself harder against my mouth, as if she can’t get close enough. “Do you want to fuck me?”
“Yes,” I croak out, voice no longer functional.
I want it all.
My jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as I step forward, the ache in my jeans unbearable. My hands come down on her ass, palms splayed over the smooth, perfect curves, fingers digging in and causing her to shiver.
Fuck, she’s unreal.
I can’t help myself—I raise one hand and bring it down in a sharp, resounding slap, watching as her skin flushes from white to a gorgeous, glowing red. The sound echoes through the room, and Poppy moans, the sound broken, her head dropping forward as her fingers grip the sheets.
Her eyes are dark, lips parted. The look she gives me is a challenge. A dare.
A plea.
I bend, sinking to my knees on the floor beside the bed, hands still cupping her ass as I spread her wider. She’s shaking, breaths coming in fast, shallow pants as I lean in, pressing my mouth to her pussy from behind, hot and hungry, sucking her clit through the thin, damp lace.
She gasps.
“Fuck,” she moans, voice trembling, spine bowing as she pushes back against my mouth, seeking more.
So wet already.
I groan into her, the vibration making her whimper. She’s soaked, the sheer fabric clinging to her. She’s wet and warm andfucking delicious.I drag my tongue over her, tasting her through the lace, thumbs hooking beneath the waistband to pull it aside, needing to feel her bare and open beneath me.
Poppy moans again, louder this time, her head dropping forward, hair falling in a messy curtain around her face as her body trembles.
I slide one hand up her back, feeling the delicate line of her spine, then bring it down to her hip, holding her steady as I lick her again, slow and deep, like I’m savoring every drop.
“I can’t take it anymore,” she whimpers breathlessly.
Her hips buck against my mouth, desperate and insistent, and I grip her tighter, pressing her down, holding her exactly where I want her. But she’s squirming, restless, fingers fisting the sheets, moaning my name like it’s the only word she knows.
