Good With His Hands (Good in Bed #1)- Lauren Blakely Page 0,38
over more intimate places—his cock is by far the best cock in the history of cocks, and I will be drawing racy pictures of it at my first opportunity—is almost enough to get me out of bed. But the covers are so soft, and the cool air from the fan puffing against my face is so soothing, and Jesse is so pretty when he’s sleeping.
So, so pretty . . .
I curl my arm under my head, soaking in every detail of his full lips, the thick eyelashes fanned out over his tan cheeks, the tousled hair falling over his forehead, and I decide I’ll paint him like this too.
I’m reaching out to tuck a rogue lock behind his ear when his eyes suddenly open wide and he whispers, “Boo,” making my heart jerk in my chest as I start to laugh.
“Shoot, you scared me,” I say in a rush, giggling as he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close, making my nipples tighten through the old T-shirt of his I threw on to sleep in. “How long have you been awake?”
“A while,” he says, reaching down to cup my ass through my panties with a happy rumble low in his throat. “I was watching you sleep first and thinking about waking you up, but it was only five thirty, so . . .”
“You can wake me at five thirty,” I say, but I bring my hand to hover in front of my mouth as he leans his face closer to mine. “But no kissing with my morning sex. Not unless I get to brush first.”
He makes a scoffing sound as his fingers slip beneath the elastic of my panties. “No kissing at all?” He traces a gentle line from my already wet center to my clit, making my breath catch and a wave of desire jolt to life in me. “What about here?” he adds in a sexy voice that contributes to my undoing. “Because I’m all about you coming on my mouth first thing in the morning.”
I make a sound somewhere between a sigh of approval and a whimper of longing, and Jesse is immediately on the move.
Before I have time to add that I’d love to get my mouth on certain parts of him—preferably with syrup involved—his hands are at the bottom of my T-shirt, pulling it up over my head. I emerge from the fabric, shoving my hair from my face in time to see Jesse hooking his long fingers into the top of my panties and drawing them down my legs.
He looks up at me from the bottom of the bed, the hunger in his gaze as he presses a kiss to my ankle making my heart swoop and my stomach bottom out.
Good Lord, he’s sexy.
The sexiest thing that’s ever happened to me.
“Spread your legs,” he murmurs against my skin as he kisses his way to my knee, sending shivers of arousal to every inch of my body. “I want to see you.”
I obey, holding his gaze as I draw my thighs apart, biting my lip as his eyes go dark.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says. He reaches up, dragging his thumb down the center of where I’m so ready for him as he kisses my thigh. “I love how wet you get for me.”
My breath shudders out, my nipples tightening as he smooths his palms up and over my hips, past my ribs, to cup my breasts in his big hands while he continues to kiss and nibble at my thighs, first one and then the other, building the ache coiling in my center.
I want him to kiss me there so badly, but I also love this sweet torture—these moments when the anticipation is so intense it sharpens every sensation, every brush of his lips and delicious drag of his teeth over my skin. Every teasing stroke of his fingers close to my pebbled nipples.
“Please.” I run my fingers through his hair, skimming my nails down the back of his neck.
“Please what?” His fingertips circle my breast, so close to where I ache but not close enough.
I arch into his hands. “Touch me.”
“Where?” The smile in his voice makes me want to punch him a little, but also makes me laugh as I breathe, “My nipples.”
He captures my tight tips between his fingers, rolling them in circles, the delicious friction making me squirm beneath him as he asks, “Where else? Where do you want my mouth, Ruby?”