“You smell delicious,” he said thickly, drawing in a ragged breath. “I could eat you all up.” And then she heard him chuckle, the sound downright wolfish as he added,
“Though, I already intend to do that anyway, so...”
Once again, Miranda shuddered, and she was sure that this time, he would feel it. Would feel the way her whole frame tensed, and then eased itself beneath the searching, passionate tracks his lips made down the sensitive ridge in the middle of her back. From the waist down, she could feel her body melting, her inner thighs turning moist as if a tap had started to drip right between her legs. And from the waist up, she felt herself grow heavier, tighter, as her breasts grew fuller and taut with an aching need she could not deny. She could feel her nipples pressing almost painfully into the mattress, and moaned.
She felt him draw away for some moments, and curious, she finally turned on her back, leaning on her elbows as she watched, unable to speak while he started to undress.
He obviously had no qualms about his body, as silently, holding her gaze almost mesmerizingly, he unbuttoned his shirt, and flung it aside along with his pants. Miranda gulped soundlessly, physically incapable of looking away.
He was...magnificent. Every inch of him like highly polished gold, and ripped to almost marble-like perfection. She’d never seen a more beautiful body on man, his shoulders broad and strongly masculine as the rest of him. Well-defined chest and pecs, smooth, washboard belly, and flanks that narrowed into a perfect vee. He had the body of an athlete crossed with what a male stripper would look like – and Miranda felt almost faint with the lack of oxygen she was experiencing.
He was making her forget to breathe – again. Seeing a naked Jude Stone was indeed, dangerous for her health. Especially when her roving eyes tracked low to his crotch, and saw what he was packing in terms of his more private masculine parts. Sure enough, he was no less gifted there as well. In fact, if her sense of proportion was anything to go by, he was at least ten inches, and from the look of things, still flipping growing! His erect girth seemed to thicken and lengthen right before her dazed eyes, as he kicked off his briefs.
“Oh my God,” Miranda gasped before she could stop herself, and saw his half wry, half predatory smile.
“Don’t look so horrified, sweetheart,” he murmured, joining her on the wide, silk-spread mattress. “I promise to be gentle – but only when you want me to be. So when you need it rough and wild – you only need to say the word.” He chuckled at her expression, totally unabashed as he lay beside her with that monster of a cock rearing in the middle of his thighs like a separate entity, the balls firm and taut at the pole-thick base.
She knew she should be freaked out by the size of him, but her traitorous body was beginning to have a mind of its own. Her already molten pussy felt totally drenched now in awareness of the gloriously naked body laying next to her.
“Touch me.”
Miranda gaped at him for a few moments, at a loss for words. “What?” she finally croaked, heart pounding so fast it felt ready to explode in her chest.
“Do it,” he told her coolly. He’d linked his hands behind his head, and she caught glimpse of his silky-haired underarms, the dark tufts such a sexy, erotic sight that she felt her inner thighs clench in shamed arousal. Every inch of him was so freaking hot; she’d heard the term “man-candy” but had never understood it till now. There was no part of him that she wouldn’t gladly sink her teeth into. And yet, she felt almost paralysed, not sure if she could force her brain into taking action.
“It doesn’t count if it isn’t convincing, Miranda,” he murmured, tone almost conversational. “I have to feel like you want this as much as I do. So, touch me all over, kiss me...do what ever you want. Make me see how wild for me you can get.”
Miranda’s breath was coming in short, helpless gasps, not sure now that she could pull things off with the cool-headed practicality she had thought she’d have ready when this time came. What could be so hard about pleasuring a man? They were basically quite easy to satisfy. And yet...here was this golden-toned, perfectly ripped body laid out in front of her that seemed built just for a lover’s adoring, hungered touch. She wanted to do what he asked, wanted to do it so very badly it frightened her. But still she was held back by her fears – and she looked up into his hooded eyes pleadingly. She found his gaze merciless, feral in its command.
“Miranda...”
The warning tone was enough. She would obey. And gladly...