“No. You can always tell me again,” I murmured, trailing my hand down between his pecs until it reached the center of his flat, hard abs before making a line back up.
Then he kissed me more, and I wasn’t even sure when his hand lifted my right leg up even higher so that it was hitched over his opposite hip, my left leg still resting between his thighs. And the next thing I knew, I was leaning over him, kissing him, my leg restless as it rubbed against him and part of his jeans. His fingers moved, sliding lower and lower until the pads of them brushed over my lower lips, soft and almost feather-like from the back going to the front.
I moaned as they went back in the direction they’d come. I arched my hips, trying to get more of his touch as he brushed my seam, back to front and back to front, as I kept trying to follow him. Them. His fingers.
“You good with a little more?” he asked after tearing his mouth away, his lips millimeters from mine.
All I could do was nod, my words gone.
He nodded too, eyes hot, as one of his fingers finally grazed my seam, sliding between my lips and just slightly brushing my clit as he did so. It had to be his middle finger because his index and ring finger still grazed the sides of me before the tip of it dipped inside. Just the tip. He moved over my seam again, sliding and brushing, petting me. Then he slipped a little more of his finger in, groaning at what I was positive had to be me soaked.
Every pass, he dipped a little deeper until his whole finger was buried inside of me, and I was wiggling my hips, grinding against him as he pushed in and out, groaning. “Jesus Christ, Bibi,” he whispered, pumping away.
I bit his neck, and his chest went rock hard.
He pulled out of me all of a sudden and squirmed down on the bed, meeting my eyes the entire time as he rasped, “Come here, darlin’.”
I sat up and instantly straddled his stomach, thinking that was what he wanted. Because I knew what I wanted. I wanted to pull him out of his underwear, and I wanted to sit on him.
And that was exactly what I told him.
His groan was long and husky, and I had a feeling I was going to remember the way it sounded for the rest of my life. “You can sit on whatever you want,” he whispered, “however long you want, darlin’, but take a seat up here for a minute, would you?”
He patted his chest, mouth damp from our kisses, his face and neck and chest flushed.
And I knew what he meant.
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I was aching and hot and wet, and I’d do anything he wanted for a minute. So I climbed up over him, nervous and excited as I threw my leg over his head, and he didn’t wait. He tugged my underwear to the side. When I dropped my hips, he must have met me in the middle because his mouth was there. Tongue there. Everywhere.
I moaned from within my soul as he gently sucked one of my lips into his mouth and then the other before his tongue dipped into me like his finger had.
“Zac!” I hissed as his fingers curled over the tops of my thighs, holding me in place as he suddenly sucked on my clit.
Lifting my hips, I met his eyes as he looked up at me and asked, “Can I…?”
Those hands I loved went to my hips, lifted me up, and guided me down his chest and along his abs. I went for the zipper on his jeans as I leaned forward and kissed him. My hand snuck into his underwear, palming the hot, hard base that had his dick tucked along his thigh, and pulled him out. He let me slink down as I gripped him with both hands, taking in the deep pink penis that was the size I’d imagined.
My God. He was fucking big.
And all he let me do was wrap my mouth around the head once, give it a single suck, before he groaned, “Oh, darlin’ baby, that’s all I can take.”
I pulled him out and trailed my lips along the length of him, inch after inch, as he lifted his hips and smiled down at me with a