tongue circled my clit and then slid down in a dirty voracious lick before pushing inside me.
“Michael!” I cried, thrusting against his mouth as I climbed higher and higher toward breaking apart completely.
Feeling my desperation, Michael returned to my clit and gently pushed two fingers inside of me.
It hit like an explosion of fiery, spine-tingling stars, release sliding deliciously through me as I shuddered against Michael’s mouth.
He gently lowered my trembling leg, and I swayed against him as he stood. Rather than being languid with satisfaction, I was buzzing with longing. Like I was still on the precipice of orgasm. I needed more.
A thrilling feeling of power overwhelmed me as our eyes locked. His smoldered, and his jaw was set with a ferocious hunger. I did that to him.
Me.
I lifted my arms to help him raise my sweater over my head.
My chest heaved with my labored, excited breaths as Michael threw the sweater to the floor and brought his hands to my shoulders. His eyes followed his fingertips as they trailed with excruciating slowness across my collarbone and down toward the rise of my breasts. They were still full, large, but they didn’t sit as perky as they once had when we were younger. I worried for a millisecond that when my bra came off, he’d notice, he’d care—
“Still so beautiful,” he whispered, and goose bumps prickled in the wake of his touch. My nipples peaked against my bra with anticipation.
“Michael,” I murmured.
In answer to my needy plea, he gripped my hips and pulled me against him so I could feel the steel of his erection against my bare stomach.
Gently, he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me so deeply, I could taste myself. But these kisses weren’t like before. Not kisses of punishing hunger. Slow, sexy, and with tender reverence that brought tears to my eyes. My hands curled around his biceps, feeling his strength, his longing, and I didn’t know what I wanted to do more: take him inside me or let him hold me while I cried.
The voice in the back of my head whispered that going any further was a bad idea.
However, before I could act either way, Michael’s hands moved over my body. With light strokes, he learned every inch of me—my ribs, my waist, my stomach. Then his hands glided around to my ass, and his kiss deepened, grew hungrier, and he drew me against his arousal. I could feel the war inside him as his tongue caressed mine in deep, wet strokes. It was like he was determined to take his time, but another part of him wanted to ravage me.
I found that war inside him sexually thrilling, not knowing which way this would go.
As I stroked my hands down his arms, the touch seemed to calm him, and his kiss grew gentler. He nipped at my lower lip and then he eased away. But only to stare into my eyes as he glided his hands up my back to my bra strap. With a dexterity I remembered from the times we’d fooled around in his car, he unhooked my bra. Then he nudged the straps down my arms, and it fell to the floor. His gaze slowly disconnected from mine and I shivered as his eyes grew hooded. His hands tightened around my biceps while he feasted on the sight of my naked breasts. My nipples peaked under his perusal, tight, needy buds that begged for his mouth.
Any concerns I had about how he’d feel about the changes in my body dissipated at the taut, desire-filled expression on his face.
“Dahlia,” he murmured as he reached up and cupped me.
I moaned and arched into his touch. Ripples of desire undulated low in my belly as he played with my breasts, sculpting and kneading them, stroking and pinching my nipples. All the time his eyes vacillated between my face and my breasts. I thrust into his touch, muttering my need for him.
The words had barely broken past my lips when his mouth found mine. This kiss was rough, hard, desperate, and his groan filled me as he pinched both my nipples between his forefingers and thumbs. I gasped, and his growl of satisfaction made me flush with pleasure. I was beyond more than ready. Feeling the fabric of his sweater beneath my hands, I curled my fists into it and jerked my lips from his. “Take it off.”
Thankfully, Michael executed my order. He let go of me, stepped back, and yanked his