“Did Bill know how to kiss?”
He watched her expression in the mirror, the way her brows knit. “Huh?”
“Did he know how to kiss you?”
“Um, I—” She looked up, and he caught her gaze in the mirror, and his cock grew thick as he watched her lick her lips and swallow. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t recall…”
“Too bad,” he murmured before brushing his lips against her soft, fragrant flesh, smiling when she shivered lightly. “A beautiful, giving woman like you should know what it means to be kissed. Kissed so you never forget what it means to be kissed properly.”
“He never…oh…” She shivered again as he traced the tip of his tongue from beneath her earlobe to the base of her throat. “That is so…good. He never kissed me the way you and Samson have. I…oh Ivan, I can’t think when you do that.”
“Good. No more thinking, only feeling. Your skin is so silky in this spot,” he whispered before tracing the slightly damp path he’d created with his lips. Her hand tightened on his shoulder, and her warmth seeped through his shirt as she leaned into his chest.
Wrapping an arm around her waist from behind, he began to sway with her to the soft music. She leaned her head against his shoulder, baring her throat to him as she moved with him, and the reflection in the mirror was hypnotic.
“I can’t make you forget him. He’s the father of your kids and has a place in your life because of them. But I plan to help you forget what it feels like to be neglected, to have your needs come second. In my book, baby, you come first. Always. First.”
A shudder rippled through her.
“You’ll forget what it feels like to be left hanging, left wanting.”
“You should know that may be difficult for me.”
“Difficult? Why?” he asked, already guessing the answer.
“It’s…that’s hard for me.”
“What is?” he asked, enjoying the feel of her soft flesh under his fingertips as he continued guiding her in the rhythm of the music, unwilling to let her back into her head, to the place where Bill had hurt her at the core of her being—her own sense of her womanliness.
“It takes a lot for me to…to come.”
He brushed his lips in a light caress from her jawline to her temple. Bill was an idiot for never exploring her sensuality with her, but then the self-absorbed jackass probably hadn’t even had a clue what that meant.
“Think so?” He rubbed his fingertips over her hipbone, keeping her back pressed against him with his forearm. She gasped, and her hips flexed at his touch. He suppressed a groan as her ass rubbed against his thickening cock.
“Oh…” She could barely speak over her panting. “Bill said I took a lot of work.”
“Work?” he asked, tonguing her earlobe. “This isn’t work, love, this is pleasure. I plan to show you just how easily you can come.”
“You do? You are? I mean…”
“Stop thinking so hard. Let me show you.” He wrapped his hand around her ponytail again, lightly tugging at it to tilt her head back, and brushed his lips down the other side of her throat. He licked his lips and then chuckled. “I taste a hint of sugar on your skin, from when you were making the frosting earlier, I’ll bet. Vanilla, sugar, and Cassie. So sweet.” He closed his eyes, but he could sense her smile as her cheek brushed his, and her breathing rasped a little.
She tilted her jaw to offer him better access, and he kissed the underside of her delicate bone structure, fighting the pressing urge to tighten his grip on her hair. Not yet.
“Are you getting warm, love?”
“Y-yes,” she whispered before licking her full lips. They’d darkened to a deeper pink, showing her arousal, and he imagined her nipples and her sweet pussy were rosier as well. She tried to turn her head, but he gripped the ponytail a little tighter, not allowing her to turn to him. She wanted a kiss, but he intended to make her ravenous for it before he’d give it to her. Have her right on the edge first. He couldn’t just tell her she came first—he had to show her.
Her breath stuttered as he peeled back the shoulder of her top and continued kissing and licking her there. Her rosy cheeks were hot as she rubbed against him, and she reached, wrapping her free hand around his forearm, holding on to him. “Ivan, you make me…” She laughed. “You make it hard to talk—hard to think.”
“Good. I want you to feel. Are you wet?”
She inhaled sharply. “What?”
“It’s okay, love. Tell me, is your pussy wet for me?”