Page 11 of Under the Boardwalk

"You feel amazing," he breathes against my lips, surprising me.

"Oh, really?"

"I need to kiss you again, just to be sure." His fingers run through my hair, and I melt at his touch, leaning into him, needing him more than the air I breathe. Our lips barely touch, and every muscle, every pore, is aching to feel him. And then the gentle kisses turn demanding, and his tongue finds its way to mine. He moves us back, and the back of my legs hits the edge of the bed, and the world spins.

He lays next to me, his head resting on one hand, while the other gently touches the curve of my hips.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, his eyes burning with heat but still gentle, letting me know I can trust him to take care of me.

"Yes," I say without hesitation.

His kisses start out slowly, gently. He traces his tongue along my jaw and my neck. It's all a haze of pleasure and soft moans. My skin tingles and shivers in anticipation, and I ache, yearn, and long to be consumed by him.

"Please…" I hear myself saying, "Please don't stop."

"You taste delicious, but the best thing about you is your mouth. Do you know why?" he says against my skin, the feel of his lips as he forms the words sending chills down my spine.

"Tell me," I all but pant, shocked I can still form words.

"Because those pretty pink lips can't lie. And they are begging me right now to have their way with you." His tongue continues to explore, and he cups one breast in his hand, teasing and massaging the nipple, sending little waves of heat down between my legs. "Your skin is so soft."

I whimper in response, and the fire is stoked, burning deep inside. I am drowning and flying. He makes a sound, almost a growl, and then he moves his lips across my belly, and a part of me wants to protest and stop him, but a louder part screams for him to never stop. My mind goes blank, and all I can do is hold on and hope to survive. I gasp, and his name slips from my lips as he parts my thighs. I feel a rush of embarrassment and try to close my knees, but his hands keep them open, and he looks at me, his dark eyes gleaming, his expression filled with lust and adoration.

"Don't be shy, Alina. You are magnificent. All of you. So fucking perfect. I will show you. Every inch, every freckle, every curve will be worshipped."

He leans his head and tastes me. His tongue flicks lightly against me, and my fingers sink into the mattress.

"I've dreamed about doing this. Tasting you, kissing you. God, how many nights I have fantasized about it. Tell me. Tell me, baby. Are you enjoying yourself? Does this feel good?"

"So good. Please… More."

"As you wish."

His fingers join in the torment, and my muscles clench. There is no more shyness, no self-conscious thoughts, just an exquisite agony, building and expanding until the world bursts.

He watches me the entire time, and I cry out his name.

When I return to reality, he's holding me in his arms, his face buried in my neck, tension raditating off him.

"Did I do it wrong?" I ask shyly, unable to meet his eyes at the sudden flood of nervousness.

He looks up. "Why would you say that?"

"You seem upset,” I say, gently running my hand over his shoulders, trying to release some of the tension there and not sure when he shed his clothes, only now noticing the miles and miles of his bare skin pressed firmly against mine.

"Baby, no, not upset. Turned on beyond belief, yes. But not upset,” he admits, nuzzling further into my neck, nipping gently at the tender spot behind my ear.

"What happens now?" I ask, knowing I want more but not sure how to ask for it.

"That's up to you. Whatever you are comfortable with."

"What if I said I was ready to finish this?"

"How exactly?" he asks, raising up on one elbow to look at me, his expression open and questioning, clearly trying to hold himself back and not pressure me. It’s the last push I need to find my strength and courage to make the next move.

"Like this." I slip my hand between us, and he gasps when I wrap my fingers around him.

"I will not be able to control myself," he groans, his eyes turning desperate.

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