a time until you were submerged and warm and ready to swim.
And I was…
When my hands slid across his lower back, I pulled him into me and moved my hips against the length that lay across my stomach. His breath went ragged.
An instant electric tension rolled between us. Everything changed. His tender kisses turned serious, and I felt a surge of heat between my legs. I peeled off my tank top, and his mouth was on my naked skin before the shirt was over my head.
A calloused hand glided up my side and cupped my breast. Then he came back up to my lips and his tongue plunged into my mouth. I nipped at his bottom lip, and he bit me back, releasing me only to devour me again.
There was something more focused than the last time we’d found ourselves this close. That time in my living room had been playful. This was something else. There was something hungrier about it. Needier.
I wanted him.
I parted my knees and let him settle between my thighs. He shifted down so the tip of him pressed right into me through our underwear. The tease was a little maddening—and I think he knew it. It strained against me right where it would slide in effortlessly if there was nothing between us, almost like he was saying, “If we take these off, you can have this.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice.
I hooked my thumbs at the top of his boxers, yanking them down. He kicked them off and put fingers under the waist of my underwear. He paused breathlessly, waiting for permission, and I nodded against his mouth, lifting my hips.
I’d never been so turned on by the feel of satin sliding down my legs. There was something so carnal about him doing it. His fingernails scraped against my skin in his hurry, and it made me more turned on to know how turned on he was, like he couldn’t get me naked fast enough.
His hand went down to guide himself into me, and I couldn’t wait to feel him. I held my breath for the moment he would glide in—but he hovered over me and circled himself in the wetness along the outside of my opening instead, holding my eyes. Just the tip in, then out, teasing me for a flicker of a second in just the right spot. In, then out. Circle, repeat. Circle, repeat.
It felt amazing—and it also drove me mad. It made me want to claw at his back, pull him inside me.
Circle, repeat. Circle, repeat.
He watched me as he did it, like he wanted to see how much I liked it.
My breath launched, and I began panting.
I ran my hands up his chest, and he tipped his head down and sucked a finger into his mouth. Need ripped through me like a wildfire.
I realized suddenly that much like the Jaxon Waters thing, Jason had underplayed yet another one of his abilities. When we’d been making out on my sofa, I could tell that he knew things, but my God did he know things. He knew exactly how to touch me.
Circle, repeat. Circle, repeat.
An orgasm was building, but every time I felt close to coming, he’d pull away and it was just enough to stop my momentum. He had to know what he was doing. And every time he did it, I wondered if this would be the time he’d go all the way in or would he pull out again and start over, make me a fraction wilder than the last time? The anticipation was making my legs shake.
I thought I’d been ready for him a moment before, but now I realized I didn’t know what ready was. I was drenched. I had no idea how he was maintaining this discipline. I could see how much he wanted me, feel how hard he was. All he had to do was let go.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Sloan,” he said, his voice husky. “We can stop at any time.”
I couldn’t stop, he knew I couldn’t stop. He was teasing me within an inch of my sanity. I felt like some sex-crazed teenager.
This was the kind of turned on that clouded judgment. This was the level of horny that got a girl pregnant on prom night in the back seat of a car. I always considered myself immune to that kind of frenzy—mostly because I was usually too self-conscious for it, especially for a first time.