40-Love - Olivia Dade Page 0,72

her arms, and he tossed her shirt onto his nightstand, then took a moment to study her newest sports bra. This one didn’t offer much support and boasted zero hooks. Instead, it slipped on and off over her head and clearly showed her nipples through the soft cotton fabric.

He approved.

Cuddling suddenly a distant second in priorities, he sat on the edge of the bed and positioned her between his legs.

“This is only a bra in the loosest sense. It’s mostly there to absorb under-boob sweat.” Her feet shuffled a bit. “I would have worn something sexier, but I didn’t think we—”

Ducking his head, he licked the fabric over her left nipple. Licked again, as she gasped and fell silent. Once the cotton was wet, he played with her there. Circled the tight nub now pushing against his tongue. Nuzzled it with his nose. Bit gently through the fabric and watched her reaction carefully, since she might be especially sensitive at this time of the month.

His hold on her hips kept her steady when he switched to her other breast.

“Take off my bra. Take off your shirt.” It was a murmur. A husky plea couched as an order, even as she arched her back and offered herself to him. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

She could have whatever she wanted. She could have everything.

He reached back to strip off his tee, but her hand closed over his.

“I changed my mind,” she said. “Let me.”

In her fist, the fabric crumpled and rose. Every inch of flesh she exposed, she stroked with her free hand. His belly. His chest. His nipples, which she rubbed with her thumb. His collarbones and shoulders and neck, which she traced with her tongue.

He shuddered, again and again.

When the shirt lay on the floor, she lightly tugged the hair at the back of his head, and he cursed at the jagged bolt of sensation to his groin. Helplessly, he fell forward into her. Rested his face against her shoulder. Wallowed in her softness and heat for a moment before recovering himself and remembering what this was about.

Not him. Only her.

No hurry. Just lazy pleasure, a gift freely given.

Her sports bra was tricky to maneuver over her head, but he managed. Then he moved her further in between his legs, pressed their torsos together, and went exploring, the loose waist of her cotton shorts and her generously sized panties allowing him plenty of room to maneuver.

“Easy access.” One hand he slid down over her ass, cupping an ample, soft-skinned cheek. The other stroked her warm belly, the crisp hair between her legs. “Nice.”

She kissed him then, her lips urgent, her tongue demanding entry. As she swept inside his mouth and claimed it as her own, he lightly rubbed his forefinger over her clit.

The small sound she made, he breathed in. Her knees sagged as he circled the hardening nub of flesh, and he tightened his hold on her ass.

With a tampon inside her, she wasn’t going to get wet. He’d have to supply his own moisture. Breaking the kiss, he switched their positions, easing her back onto the mattress as he stood between her legs. Then he licked his fingers and got back to the most pleasurable work he’d ever known.

There was something unexpectedly erotic about watching his hand move beneath the fabric, the contrast between what was hidden from view and her very visible reaction. The way her thighs convulsively opened and closed on his forearm, her lips parted and wet and her breath fast.

He leaned down and sucked that glorious curve of flesh between neck and shoulder, teasing her puckered nipple with his free hand. “Still feel good?”

She was swollen and twitching beneath his fingers now, raising her hips for more pressure. But he didn’t make his touch any firmer. No, he intended to make this feeling last and last for her.

“Oh, yes. Lucas…oh, God.” Her eyes drifted closed, and her chin tipped back as she squirmed on the bed.

Fuck, Tess on the verge of orgasm was the most glorious thing he’d ever seen.

Gentle, gentle.

The shush of skin against fabric was the only sound other than her panting breaths. He kept circling, lightly rubbing, glorying in the occasional spasms that told him she was close.

Then she moaned, her brow pleated, her flesh pulsing beneath his touch as she bucked and trembled and came. He bent down to kiss her, to take those whimpers of reaction into his mouth, and kept stroking her until her body