Twisted Palace(68)
“Thought I’d change into something a little less comfortable,” I say in a wry voice.
He wheezes out a laugh. He took off his shirt when I was in the bathroom, and now he rises to his feet, bare-chested and utterly gorgeous.
“You like?” I ask shyly.
“I more than like.”
He advances on me like a hungry animal, blue eyes raking over my body until every inch of me feels hot and achy. He comes closer, and he’s so much taller than me, so much bigger. Strong arms pull me in. His lips find my neck and he kisses me there.
“FYI?” he murmurs against my heated flesh. “You don’t need to dress up for me. You’re beautiful no matter what you wear.” He lifts his head and gives me a wicked smile. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re wearing nothing at all.”
“Don’t ruin this,” I scold. “I’m too nervous. I need to feel pretty.”
“You are pretty. And there’s no reason to be nervous. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Are you backing out?”
“No way.” He drags his hand down my side to settle at my waist. “Nothing or no one could drag me away at this point.”
I want this so badly I can hardly breathe. I never gave much thought to my first time. I never fantasized about rose petals and candles. I never even thought it would be with someone I loved, if I’m being honest.
“Good, because I don’t want to wait another minute,” I tell him.
“Lie down.” His voice is husky as he nudges me toward the bed.
Without a word, I stretch out on my back with my head on the pillows.
He stands at the edge of the mattress. Then he takes off his pants.
My lungs stop working as Reed crawls up beside me. He brings his mouth to mine, kissing me softly at first, then with more urgency as I part my lips for him.
The hard length of him presses against my thigh, and the drumbeat of desire that played in the background all week as I thought about this night thuds loudly in my head. His tongue traces my lips, his mouth whispers a path across my cheek. His hands roam my body, mapping the valleys and the rises with equal interest.
A thumb across my nipple sends shudders from the tip to my core. A kiss behind my ear makes my whole body quiver in delight.
We make out for what seems like hours, until we’re both breathless and painfully turned on.
Reed’s lips release mine abruptly. “I love you,” he mumbles.
“I love you, too.” I press my mouth to his again and we stop talking. My heart is pounding. So is his. And his hands tremble as they begin a slow descent.
To my frustration, he won’t let me touch him. Every time I reach for him, he swats my hands away. “It’s all about you,” he whispers after my third grabbing attempt. “Close your eyes and enjoy it, dammit.”
And gosh, I do. I enjoy every torturous second of it. It’s not long before my brand-new underwear is cast aside. I can’t focus on anything but the incredible sensations he’s eliciting. He’s touched me before here, in the same intimate ways, but it’s different tonight. It’s the start of something, rather than the end. Every caress of his hand, every press of his lips against my skin, is a promise of more to come. And I can’t wait.
Two calloused fingers slide down my stomach until he’s there, inside me, and I moan as the pleasure explodes in a blinding rush. The sensations shake me from the inside out. His mouth meets mine, swallowing my whimpers, stroking me to completion. My hips arch to meet his fingers, and he rides the wave with me as I shudder against the mattress.
He doesn’t even give me time to recover. I’m still shaking wildly when he starts all over again, this time sliding between my legs and using his mouth to send me soaring. He licks and kisses and teases until I can’t take it. It’s too much, too good. But not enough.
A frustrated groan flies out. “Reed,” I beg, clutching his broad shoulders to yank him up.
The heavy weight of his body presses me to the bed. “You ready?” he rasps. “Really ready?”
I nod wordlessly.
He leaves me, just for a moment, so he can dig around in his jeans pocket. He comes back with a condom.
My heart stops.
“You okay?”
His deep voice is like a warm blanket of reassurance. “I’m good.” I reach for him again. “I love you.”
He whispers, “Love you, too,” and then kisses me at the same time he enters me.
We both make a strangled noise, because it feels impossibly tight. The pressure triggers an achy feeling, a strange sensation of emptiness.
“Ella,” he breathes as if he’s the one in pain.