Wildfire (Maple Hills, #2)(14)
I’m not shy. I don’t think I’ve ever had a moment of feeling shy in my life, but the way he touches me so tenderly, the way his breath hitches as he pulls my panties down my legs slowly and the way he looks at me when I let my legs rest open, is making me feel freaking shy.
He leans over to kiss me, harder this time, keeping his body hovering above mine so I don’t get any satisfaction from feeling his weight on me. I can’t decide if he’s purposely teasing me or if he’s just really enjoying taking his time. There’s something polite about it, respectful, not something I’ve ever labelled a random hook up.
His kisses move lower sparking a fire in every place he touches. Neck, breasts, stomach, hip bone, until his head is right between my legs. He keeps watching me as he finally, finally, puts his mouth on me, moving my legs over his shoulders, and after that I don’t know what he does, because my eyes roll to the back of my head.
There’s nothing polite or respectful in the way he goes down on me. My heart is thrashing against my ribcage, breathing erratic, body writhing so much he uses an arm to pin me to the bed while he licks and sucks and—
“Oh my. Oh fuck. Yeah, like that.”
With one hand in his hair and one hand clinging to the duvet, my back arches while my feet dig into the muscular planes of his back, pressing myself further into his face. I’d be embarrassed if my actions weren’t met with satisfied moans. My stomach tightens, his fingers and mouth keep the same pace. “I’m going to . . . oh my God.”
He keeps going as I squeeze around his fingers, crying out his name, and when the orgasm finally subsides, I’m pretty sure I’m goo.
Russ collapses next to me on the bed and my brain knows I want to be near to him, but my body doesn’t even know what planet we’re on. Shuffling closer, he kisses me softly, the taste of me on his mouth. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Feeling like I should have put more effort into the lap dance. Didn’t know you were going to put on the performance of your life, jeez.” My brain and body finally start communicating again, allowing me to climb on top of him, straddling his thighs. “Do you have condoms?”
The realization that settles over his face is like something out of a horror film. It’s funny really, the moment he realizes he fucked up. “Sorry, I’ve just moved and haven’t had chance to get some and I wasn’t expecting to . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t think.” He looks down at the erection pressing against his boxers and blows out a sigh. “I’ll check Henry’s room.”
“As much as I’d love to see you try and hide that from a house full of people, I have some in my purse.”
By the time I’ve retrieved one and thrown it on the bed beside us, the look of panic has disappeared. He sits up, leaning back against one hand, cupping my face with the other. I’m waiting for him to say something, again. Nervousness floods my system as he strokes his thumb across my bottom lip. “So perfect.”
I want to fill the silence with every thought in my head for reasons I don’t understand. I think his awkwardness has rubbed off on me a little.
Pushing him back down, I tear the wrapper with my teeth, lifting myself up to let him move his boxers down until his erection springs free. It’s less of a gasp and more of a surprised hiccup when I realize what it is we’re dealing with here. He takes the condom from my hand, rolling it on while I evaluate.
“There’s no way that’s going to fit. I mean I love a challenge, but I can only be challenged so much, y’know?” He pulls me down to him, our mouths aligning, my stomach moving with his as he chuckles at my crisis.
He still tastes like me when his tongue moves against mine; he groans into my mouth when I roll my hips against him. His eyes close, voice strains. “We’ll make it fit.”
Oh, Lord.
Carefully and, while kind of wishing I took another shot for courage, I push myself up from his chest and sink down onto him slowly. “Holy fuck.” Russ’s hands grip my hips tightly. “Is this okay?” he whispers.
I nod, placing my hands over his, as I lift myself up and sink down a little more, then again, until I’m finally taking most of him. My nails dig into his chest, his fingers sink into my skin and the sound of our bodies slapping together echoes around the room.
Why did I think I had the stamina to go on top?
“You’re taking it so well, sweetheart.” I work a little harder, clearly motivated by words and moans. “That’s it, good girl.”
Who knew Mr. Helpful and I would be so compatible. I like it when he praises me and he really likes it when I swirl my hips on the end of his dick. Dream team.
One of his hands travels between my legs, rubbing exactly where I need him to and my body takes on a life of its own, grinding and chasing the building feeling.
“Russ . . . Yes, yes.” He keeps praising and rubbing and letting me take what I need until my entire body tightens and I collapse on top of him, crying out. Rolling me onto my back, he takes his weight on his arms while I pant beneath him.
He brushes my hair out of my face, slowly moving in and out of me again. His head falls to my neck, kissing my skin lightly as I wrap my arms and still shaky legs around him. “You feel so good, Aurora,” he whispers. “I want to feel you come around me again.”
Where the fuck did this man come from?