this space as quickly as possible.
“Leave it off,” he says, his hands moving to grasp my hips and pull me until my back connects to his front. I release a shaky breath when I feel his arousal against me.
“Nathan.”
His hands move quickly to undo the three buttons of my light wool jacket. He slides it off me and tosses it on the table, moving his hands quickly back in place. He flicks my earlobe with his tongue then gently tugs at it with his teeth. I can’t control the involuntary moan that escapes from my lips.
“Walk to the couch, baby,” he orders, and I don’t know why, but I obey.
I walk through the darkened apartment into the living room. Nathan never loosens his hold on me; his fingers splayed on my hips are the only thing that my body responds to. My mind doesn’t understand what’s happening, but my body does. It’s craving him.
We make it to the living room, and he turns me around so that we’re face to face with the back of my legs touching the edge of the couch. I close my eyes as he runs a hand through my hair. He leans into me, his lips barely touching my ear.
“I didn’t like seeing you with him tonight.”
“Why?” I breathe out, his lips traveling down until they reach my neck. I tilt my head to give him better access, and he sucks gently, spreading warmth all through my body.
“I don’t know,” he says between licks. “You’re too good for an asshole like that.”
“It was just business.”
He pushes me down onto the couch, laying me down and forcing my legs open with his knees to position himself over me. He places a gentle kiss on my lips, leaving me breathless, unable to believe that this is really happening.
“You’re just too good,” he says again before kissing me again, this time probing my lips with his tongue and forcing me to open my mouth for him. My hands grasp his hair and that’s all the acknowledgment or acceptance that he needs. His kiss is hot and deep, nothing like I’ve ever experienced before
“Nathan, don’t.”
“Don’t what, sweetheart…” he questions, cupping me through my pants. “Don’t fuck you? Is that it? Or don’t stop?”
His fingers roam, deftly undoing the button of my pants, and his hand slides in. My head falls back on the couch when his fingers land on my clit.
“Oh, my God,” I cry getting lost in the feeling his hands is creating; he plays my body against me, forcing me to push any doubts out of my head, forcing me to feel every single move of his fingers on me. His touch is gentle at first, building a sweet rhythm that has me moving my hips to match his movements. As his pressure intensifies, the peaks I begin to reach take me higher and higher, dipping then rising again until I’m begging him for more. “Nathan, please.”
I can feel his lips on my cheek tip up into a smile as he lets up on his rhythm, slowing things down, and making me cry out again for a different reason this time.
“I was almost there.”
“Shh.” He slides his nose along mine rendering me speechless before kissing me again. Our lips disconnect and I reach out to him as he pulls himself up. He hovers over me for the briefest of seconds. His eyes are blazing; he wants this as badly as I do. Nathan tugs my pants and underwear off my body and tosses them aside. I take a moment to catch my breath, but Nathan is on his knees faster than I can manage my recovery. His mouth descends, making me wild as his tongue connects with my clit. It’s like a trigger igniting me, lighting me up from within. I find it difficult to control what I’m feeling; his attention to my body sets me off in a way that I’ve never experienced before. How he makes me realize that, up until now, I’ve been going through the motions with the men throughout my past. I didn’t understand that, couldn’t put it together, until I experienced something different, something bigger, something that to me meant more. I can only hope it means something to him, too.
“Nathan, please.” I’ve never been one to beg, to ask for anything, my cold persona (a façade) and my pride wouldn’t let me stoop to that level, but with Nathan, I’m beginning to blur all boundaries.
Perhaps, he understands what my begging