with the edge of his teeth, he'd flipped her onto her belly. The nineteen-year-old hadn't known this would become her favorite position.
But David had discovered it almost from the first. She could still remember her hot cheek against the cool surface of his sheet. He'd pushed her long hair off her neck and kissed her nape, then pressed a flight of butterfly kisses against the skin of her back, crossing her shoulders and dipping down her spine. Imagine her shock when he'd bit her bottom!
He did it now too, but she didn't squeak as she'd done then. Instead, she lifted into the sting-and-suck of that carnal kiss and felt the throb of it everywhere, at the tips of her breasts, in the pulse points of her wrists, as an insistent ache between her thighs.
She was too empty there. "David..." she heard herself moan.
He ran his thumb along the seam between her cheeks, brushing past a tiny indent that made her skin break out into goose bumps, until he dipped just the pad against the wet, aching well where she wanted his erection.
"Please, David..."
"You're so ready for me."
"I am. I am so ready."
He laughed at the urgent note in her voice, the laugh of a man who knew his way around a woman's body. At nineteen she'd been only grateful for it.
She was still thankful. "Come inside." The Tess of the present was bold enough to wiggle her butt at him.
He caressed her hip with one large hand. He had calluses that were new, and they made her skin prickle in reaction. She rubbed her tight nipples against the sleeping bag beneath her. After this, SpongeBob and Buzz Lightyear were going to have to be replaced by brand-new cartoon characters.
Thoughts of the kids intruded. Oh, God. What was she doing? She started to rise, but David's hand clamped hard on her hip bone. His other pressed between her shoulder blades, holding her in place.
His body curled over hers, and his mouth kissed her ear, his hot breath tickling the whorls. "Don't keep me out. Don't push me away. Never not let me have you, Tess."
She let desire spin her back again. She was nineteen, in the capable hands of an incredible lover. Of a real man, a mature man, who caressed her cheek with his mouth as his thick, solid shaft tunneled inside her. She arched, trying to force him deeper, faster, but David was chuckling again, that dark, confident chuckle that had her twisting to abrade her stiff nipples on the surface below her. His hands found hers, and he twined their fingers, gripping tight as he took her that last inch.
They both made satisfied noises and went still.
He was throbbing in her channel, and she tightened it around him, squeezed him as she'd done with her hand. He groaned. "You're so good, baby."
The nineteen-year-old had thrilled to that. She'd done it again, and then he'd started thrusting, helpless, she'd thought, against her wiles.
Now she knew better. Nothing about David was helpless when it came to bedding her. He moved deliberately, pulsing deep, thrusting shallowly, driving her mad by not giving her the vigorous pounding rhythm that would get her off. "David," she said and craned her neck to take his mouth in a kiss.
He sucked on her tongue, and she arched into his next stroke. "Please." She pushed her bottom higher.
His fingers slid free of her right hand. Still thrusting, he passed his hand over her shoulder, down her spine, around her hip. Then two fingers slid between her softness to brush the hard bundle of sensation. A shudder rolled through her. He circled her there with the wet tips, tight, tight orbits that didn't let up even as he plunged inside her with more force.
Still, his movements were controlled, each one designed to propel her to orgasm. Her knees slipped against the sleeping bag, and so she wouldn't flatten, she reared back. It upset the rhythm.
And brought him root-deep.
They both froze again. His heart was pounding against her spine. Their harsh breaths echoed off the nylon walls. She squeezed the fingers of his left hand, and he moved again, withdrawing to drive inside her once more. His right hand went back to its work too.
And Tess let the final pleasure begin to wind inside her. With every turn, her body tensed, until she was tight like a violin string, vibrating at her own personal pitch of bliss. "David..." she moaned again.