Finally. His blood seemed to chant the word over and over again as it pooled and pulsed in his cock. He wasn’t conscious of dragging the bra off her. But the moment he filled his work-hardened palms with her breasts would be burned into his memory forever. Perfection. Soft, heavy perfection. She fit his hands just right.
Every inch of her was a miracle, a wonder of his personal world.
She let out a ragged moan that he silenced with a kiss. His cock ached as he ground against her. He was hanging on by a thread, the leash on his control was stretched to the breaking point. But he couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down. Not now.
His eager thumbs brushed over those rosy, erect nipples. It wasn’t enough to just feel her; he needed to taste.
“More?” His whisper was harsh as he trailed teeth and tongue down her neck, over her shoulder.
“Please. Yes. More,” she hissed.
Maggie Nichols was begging him for more.
He took a second to admire the way her full breasts fit his hands. Her nipples were a dark, puckered pink that made him think of rosebuds. Breath coming in short pants had those perfect breasts trembling, her heart thundering in her chest just beneath his fingers.
Silas looked her in the eyes as he lowered his mouth to one taut nipple. Her cry when his tongue danced over the delicate peak was music to his desperate ears. Licking, laving, he teased until she again whispered darkly, “More.”
He drew the nipple into his mouth and began to suckle. Her legs opened restlessly, and he thrust against her. There were too many layers of clothing to make it anything but a painful, delirious preview.
He cursed the separation, the layers. He wanted her stripped down with nothing between them. Nothing in the way of what they were both chasing.
She bucked against him, and it felt so fucking good. The heat between her thighs required his attention. He released her nipple with a pop. It seemed to strain toward him. Egotistically proud, he moved to the other and repeated the long, hard pulls, reveling as it, too, hardened against his tongue.
It was the whimper clawing its way up her throat that did it. That had him yanking at the fly of her jeans.
She levered her hips up, and he took advantage of the angle, dragging denim and cotton down her legs.
With reverence, he traced a finger over the seam between her folds. “Open for me, Mags,” he ordered. When she obeyed, when she dropped her knees, he felt delirious.
“Watch.” He snapped out the command and waited until her eyes fluttered open before sinking one finger into her damp, trembling flesh. So wet and hot and tight. She’d be the death of him, but he’d guessed that the first time he laid eyes on her. It was finally time for his hands and mouth and cock to explore all the secrets of her body.
“More, Sy,” she whispered.
He gave her more. Harder pulls at her breast, a second, then a third finger in her sex.
She rode his hand with frantic pumps of her hips as he pulled her nipples into his mouth one at a time. Strong and soft. Her body was a miracle of contradictions, and he was going to take his time worshipping each and every one.
“I love touching you, Maggie,” he whispered. “I know I’m going to love fucking you.”
“You’re such a dirty talker,” she breathed, then groaned as he thrust his fingers into her even deeper. She was so wet, so fucking ready.
“You love it, don’t you, darlin’？”
“Yes.” She hissed out the word as he stroked his tongue over her nipple.
“You love hearing how I’m going to pin you to this bed with my cock inside you and ride you hard and deep until you come on me.” To emphasize his plan, he ground his erection against her.
“Oh, God. Need to touch you,” she panted, fingers frantically reaching for the waistband of his jeans.
Reluctantly, he released her breast and comforted himself by finding her mouth. She worked his jeans open and shoved one hand inside.
The sound she made when she wrapped those long fingers around his shaft had his balls tightening in anticipation.
“Go slow, Mags,” he said as she gave him a stroke that had his eyes rolling back in his head. “I’m pretty wound up.”
“I don’t want slow,” she warned before driving him wild by sinking her teeth into his lower lip.
“Then you’d best hang on,” he growled. He rose up on his knees and dragged her jeans all the way off. Heavy-eyed and panting, she helped him with his own.
“The red ones,” she groaned when she saw his underwear. “I’m so fucking glad you wore the red ones. I’ve had dreams of these since I saw you in them that first day.”