Page 40 of How to Date a Younger Man
“Let me,” I murmur, brushing my fingertips against the soft skin of one exposed shoulder blade.
Faint chill bumps rise on her back as she shivers from my touch, and I’m suddenly thrust back into the memory of our first meeting, that fateful day in her office when my hands touched her back for the first time.
I press my body against hers, my erection nestled firmly against her backside. As I slowly draw the zipper of the maroon dress down, Layne melts into me. Her hands find my thighs and squeeze, hard, as I press the softest kisses onto one slim shoulder. She tastes sweet and practically melts into my touch.
Once the zipper is low enough, I kneel behind her, pulling the fabric down with me until it pools around her bare feet. I run my hands from the dip in her lower back to her sexy little thong, loving the way her soft skin feels beneath my fingertips.
Layne turns around, gazing down on me with hooded eyes. Her fingers brush over my shoulders, trailing up to dig fingernails deliciously into my scalp. I plant open-mouthed kisses against her hips and waist, nipping at the sensitive flesh above the line of her underwear.
“Griffin,” she says on a moan.
It’s too much to hear my name on those lips, like that. I rise to my feet and cup her face in my hands, fitting my mouth against hers. Our kiss is slow, hot, and wet, like water finally brought to a boil. Jesus. I can feel all the pent-up sexual tension that we’ve been stockpiling for years, echoing between our buzzing bodies.
Gently, I change the angle of our kiss, deepening it with a soft push of my tongue against hers. Layne presses tightly against me, her half-naked body hot against my clothes.
“Take off your shirt,” she gasps between kisses.
“Anything for you,” I murmur, ripping it over my head with one swift motion.
I draw Layne back against me, our bare skin lighting a fire between us. Her hands massage the exposed muscles of my shoulders, and I moan into our kiss.
“Fuck, Layne . . .”
Step by step, she leads me to the side of her bed. She gently pulls me down with her, and I follow, greedy for the taste of her neck on my tongue. My hands find her breasts, squeezing gently at first, and then harder when she arches her back and grinds her pelvis into mine.
So, Layne likes it a little rough. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t taking notes.
But when she pants out, “Condom,” my heart stops and my brain scrambles in sixteen different directions.
Fuck. This can’t be happening.
“I don’t have one. Do you?” I ask, praying to that higher power for just one more favor.
“No.” She groans, and her hands fall from my back, bouncing against the mattress.
Is she pouting?
“We don’t need a condom to have fun,” I say before pulling the cup of her bra down to reveal one perfect pink nipple.
She yelps as I lick a wet path across her breast with my tongue. My fingers find the edge of her underwear, dipping beneath the fabric to discover even more silky skin.
“Can I take these off?” I murmur against her rising and falling belly.
She nods, making a desperate little sound that tells me, yes, for God’s sake, yes.
Drawing myself up onto my knees, I pull her panties down her legs and am completely awe-struck. Layne is perfectly clean shaven, pink and wet. My mouth waters.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, my breath tickling the skin of her inner thighs.
I lick and nip my way up her legs until I reach her beautiful, precious cunt. With soft, chaste kisses, I elicit needy whimpers from her.
Layne’s fingernails drag almost painfully through my hair, telling me to make my move already. When I caress her with my tongue, Layne bucks against my mouth, so I hold her hips in place with my strong hands. I suck and lick and kiss her pussy until I feel her quivering with pleasure. Then I draw one finger into my mouth, making it warm and wet.
With my lips tight around her clit, I press in one thick finger, then two. Her inner walls throb and constrict, signaling her orgasm rolling in. With steady strokes of my tongue and rhythmic pumping of my fingers, I pull her orgasm out of her. Her body rocks against my mouth like she’s riding a bull at the rodeo. I freaking love it.
A minute or two passes before she finally settles, the last waves of her orgasm lapping against her as I leave soft kisses on any surface I can reach. I crawl up her body, nestling into the crook of her neck with a sigh.
“Your turn,” she whispers against my neck.
Layne gently pushes one of my shoulders until I lose my balance. Before I know it, I’m on my back, and she has her mouth on my skin, leaving languid kisses down my chest and abs. The palm of her hand finds purchase on my balls, and my hips thrust involuntarily.
