Truth or Beard(108)

“Now just…just wait a minute.” I held up my finger and backed away two steps. My legs were wobbly and I was still gathering my thoughts. Therefore, I didn’t get very far before he caught me, brought me back to the bed, and climbed on top. He lifted my night shirt until my chest was exposed, and then went to town biting and sucking and licking.

“Hush,” he breathed against my skin. “Just for tonight, Jess. Just give me tonight.”

Just for tonight? I couldn’t focus, I didn’t understand what he meant.

Instead of deciphering Duane-code, I moaned mindlessly, grabbing his hair and keeping him in place. Goodness, I needed him. I needed this. I needed the comfort and reassurance that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. I’d grown accustomed to feeling as though a part of my heart was perpetually vacant—yet he had filled that empty hole, or I thought he had.

Duane understood me. He wanted me. I wasn’t strange. We fit together. We fit perfectly. We were suited. And I loved him. I loved him so much.

He was tugging at my panties so I lifted my hips, felt them slide down my legs. I shivered, not from cold, but needing his heat. My fingers left his hair and fumbled for the waistband of his jeans.

Each time we were together and things turned passionate, each time I felt the promise of his skin, I also felt a maddening kind of urgency. It didn’t make sense. But there I was, grasping his pants and boxers, shoving them down with my hands and eventually my feet.

Likewise, Duane pushed my nightshirt over my head, forcing me to lift my arms when all I wanted to do was grab him and hold on. I hadn’t had access to his body before, not really. I’d never seen his bottom as an adult. Nor his thighs or calves. I wanted to see them, touch them, spend quality time getting to know them and all their hopes and dreams.

But I was trapped, my wrists held down and tangled in my silk shirt. Granted, I was sexy-trapped—unable to move as I would have liked because Duane’s hot, hard, naked body covered mine—but I was still trapped.

“You are so beautiful, Jessica,” he whispered, his muscular thigh between my legs pressing against my center. Spirals of erotic heat twisted low in my belly, making me arch and whimper. Duane kissed his way down my body, biting and licking, like I was being savored. He was exploring me in much the same way I’d longed to explore him.

But now I was teetering on mindless selfishness, needing him to keep working his magic, stiffening with delighted suspense as he kissed my hip, the front of my thigh, the inside of my thigh, and then…

Hell and tarnation, I couldn’t stand it. He was breathing on me; his mouth and tongue so close, but no lollipop action. I wanted to scream. I felt him hovering and I lifted my head, determined to give him whatever encouragement he needed to make this happen, and found his sapphire blues looking back at me.

As soon as I gave him my eyes, I saw the pink of his flat tongue lick his lips. Really, this man should have been employed by the CIA, because the sight was torture. I was so primed, my legs were shaking. Therefore I was about to either holler at him or beg—I wasn’t sure which—but before I could he lowered his mouth to my center and we both moaned.

My head fell back and I sighed the big sigh, the sigh of thank you, Jesus!

I didn’t think much about the fact I was thanking Jesus for my building orgasm, because—again—selfish mindlessness. It had me tilting and lifting my hips, rocking them against his mouth, chasing and cherishing all the prickles of sensation.

When I came it felt like being tossed skyward; the feelings of belonging, the spikes of heat and rightness and desire and fulfilled longing coursing through my body.

Then he was gone.

Then I heard the very distinct sound of a condom wrapper ripping open.

Then there was a pause.

Then he was back.

I opened my arms to him, wanting to cuddle and lose myself in his strong arms, and confused by his placement of the banana wrapper. My confusion was short-lived because he didn’t come to my arms, not exactly. He hovered above me, his sheathed erection rubbing against my sensitized flesh.

I sucked in a shuddering breath, my eyes flying open, and I stared at my beautiful man. He was so…everything. So sweet and handsome and passionate. So wonderful and kind and…I was so desperately in love with everything about him.

“I need you.” He kissed me, his hot mouth claiming mine, the hardness of his length separating me and nudging at my entrance. “Can I have you? Just for tonight.”

“Yes! You can have me forever.” I nodded, my fingers digging into his torso. In this position, I might be able to fondle his bottom like I’d wanted. I wouldn’t be lost to selfish madness, because I’d already had my orgasm. I could use this lovely invasion as a chance to explore, show Duane how I cherished every inch of him.