A Blazing Little Christmas(17)
If he lived to be one hundred he’d never forget the first time they made love. It had been after a dinner and movie date. His place. A cold March wind blew outside, a stunning contrast to the burning desire they’d both felt. No woman, ever, had felt like Jess. Had suffused him with such a complex mix of emotions, leaving him vulnerable yet stronger than he’d ever felt. One night with her had reduced every other sexual encounter he’d ever experienced into a distant and hazy memory. He’d known without a doubt that he’d never want or need to touch any woman other than her for the rest of his life.
Looking at her now, a powerful wave of tenderness flooded him. This woman meant everything to him. And he wanted, needed to show her that, make her remember how perfect they were for each other. How they absolutely, positively belonged together.
“Jess.” Her name sounded like a hoarse rasp, filled with all the love and want and need she inspired. The instant their lips touched, he was lost. His mouth melded with hers in a deep, hot, wet, tongue-mating kiss that perfectly imitated the act his body craved to share with hers. Without breaking their kiss, he lifted her straight up and walked the few steps to the bed. When the backs of her legs hit the mattress, he trailed his lips and tongue down her neck. God, the way this woman tasted…a heady combination of heat and spice and vanilla that never failed to leave him hungry for more. No woman, ever, had tasted like her. Felt like her. The first time he touched her she’d all but left him shaking.
He interrupted their kiss only long enough to pull her heavy sweater over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra and the sight of her rounded breasts, topped with hard, rosy nipples rumbled a growl in his throat.
He kissed her plump lips again then dragged his mouth lower, down her scented neck, over her delicate collarbone while his hands skimmed down to her jeans, which he quickly unfastened. His tongue slowly licked around one plump nipple before drawing the taut bud into his mouth while his hands slipped beneath the lace of her panties to cup the sweet curve of her bottom. She gasped and arched her back, offering him more, an invitation he instantly accepted. While his lips and tongue laved and teased her breasts, he pushed the denim and her underwear over her hips. Licking a trail down the center of her torso, he lowered himself to his knees, bringing her jeans down with him. He helped her step out of her clothes, removed her socks then looked up the long, curvy length of her gorgeous body, into her eyes that glittered with arousal.
Reaching up, he teased her taut nipples, still damp from his mouth. She moaned and combed her fingers through his hair, arching into his touch. Pressing his face against her belly, he traced the tip of his tongue around the indent of her navel. He breathed deep and the musk of her arousal invaded his senses, making his head reel. His hands cruised down to her hips and he urged her down, until she sat on the bed, then ran one hand up her body and gently pressed her back until she leaned on her elbows.
Grasping her knees, he spread her legs, wide, his avid gaze drinking in the sight of her glistening sex. He slipped his hands beneath her and dragged her closer, setting her thighs over his shoulders. Leaning forward, he gave her slick folds a long, lazy lick.
“Eric…” His whispered name ended on a feminine sigh, one that deepened into a groan when he slipped two fingers inside her and slowly pumped while his lips and tongue pleasured her, licking, teasing, sucking, flicking, swirling.
His other hand skated up to her breasts and he rolled her taut nipples between his fingers. She lifted her hips, writhing against him, seeking more, her breaths quickening into erratic puffs. He felt her body tensing, her arousal tightening, until with a sharp cry she came. With tremors still shuddering through her, he slipped a third finger into her wet heat and drew her clitoris into his mouth. She gasped and arched her back as she peaked again.
This time when the tremors subsided, he kissed his way up her body, then shifted her higher on the mattress. When he rose to his knees, intending to strip off his shirt, she leaned up on her elbows and shook her head.
“Oh, no,” she whispered, her eyes glittering. “Now it’s my turn. Stand up.”
He shot a glance down at the bulge in his jeans. “Already done.”
Her gaze followed his and she licked her lips, a gesture that did nothing whatsoever to calm him. “I meant on your feet.”
After he obeyed, she rose from the bed to stand in front of him then grabbed the
ends of his sweater and drew it upward. He raised his arms to help and by the time he’d dropped the garment to the floor, she’d unfastened his jeans. Dark need slithered through him at the knowledge that she clearly felt the same stabbing need as he.