Page 49 of Forever Wild

With that, he lifts me off my feet, throwing me down on the edge of the bed. He kisses his way down my stomach, stopping only to pull my drenched underwear off.

“Fuck,” he groans, his tongue darting out to taste me. One of his big hands slides to my breast, kneading, while the other slides down my seam, splitting me open before him.

I’m so aroused, so absolutely turned on from this man, that a spark of hope ignites inside of me. Maybe oral will actually work this time.

“You’ve got the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen,” Jameson says before his tongue hits my clit, and holy cow. It is not the same. As he continues to work his mouth over that sensitive bud, sucking and teasing, he slowly slides his finger into me. The slow pace is in direct contrast to the pulsing vibrations, which somehow makes them both feel more intense.

“Holy…shit,” I moan, digging my hands into his hair to urge him on.

He pauses, angling his head up just enough to send me the smuggest smirk I’ve ever seen. Fortunately for him, there is no way I can form a coherent thought right now, let alone a witty reply.

I whimper, needing friction, and he responds by slipping another finger inside of me. His two fingers are bigger than anything I’ve ever had in me before, so I gasp at the stretching sensation at the same time that he mumbles, “So tight.”

He continues to work my clit as I ride his face, his fingers following the speed I’m setting with my hips. He’s really good at this, and surprisingly willing to keep at it for more than the five minutes I’ve ever been willing to try before.

He starts toying with my nipple, and I can feel the orgasm start to crest, and he must too because he pulls away long enough to say, “Fuck yeah.” I squirm in agitation, not quite able to get where I need to go.

As if he senses the fear of failure in me, he nips my clit at the same time he curls his fingers inside of me, brushing just the right spot. One, two, three strokes of my inner wall and…holy shit! I’m coming! My back bows off the bed, my thighs trapping his head in a vise. He strokes me through the aftershocks as he laps up my orgasm, drinking me in like he’s been lost in the desert without water for days.

“Wow,” I say when I’m finally coherent enough to think straight. “That was…wow.”

I look down at Jameson, who is kneeling between my legs, looking mighty proud of himself.

“I’m not going to lie, B. It’s a goddamn privilege to know that I’m the only man who has ever seen that before.” He runs his hand through his hair. “That was…amazing.”

You could say that again. It was amazing. Not just because I actually came for the first time that way, but because…wow. I didn’t even know I had that many nerve endings.

“Thanks, Jameo.”

He climbs over my body, leaning in to kiss me gently. I feel like I should be disgusted by the taste of my pleasure in his mouth, but I can’t help but love everything about this moment. It’s bliss.

“The pleasure is truly all mine.”

I give him another kiss before heading into the bathroom to clean up. Once I’ve run a warm washcloth over myself, I wander past the bed, searching for my discarded clothes. As much as I would love to cuddle into that man’s chest and never let him go, I know he needs to focus on his golf.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” he asks, a note of desperation in his voice.

“Yes. You cannot tell me that sleeping in the same bed as someone for the first time ever is going to help your golf game tomorrow.” I wink at him, trying to be clear that I would stay, but I know I shouldn’t.

“Come on, B. I want to sleep with you tonight.”

There’s something in his tone that makes me think he might mean more than just lying in bed next to each other. But after what we just did, how do I explain why I’m not ready to have full-on sex with him when I was more than happy to have his cock in my mouth less than an hour ago? I swivel the ring on my finger, staring at him as I try to explain without also springing the virgin thing on him. “I really like you, Jameo, but…”

I see his face become guarded—right, almost no good statement ever begins that way—and I try again.

“I just, I told you that I…” I bite my lip, trying to decide how to say it. How much to say.

Luckily, realization seems to wash over him, his body transforming with his understanding.

“I need you to talk to me. To cuddle with me.” He stands up, pulling me into a hug. “You told me you want to take it slow. I respect that. As much as I can’t wait to have sex with you, I can wait. For you.”

“I didn’t bring any clothes with me.”

“You can sleep in some of mine.”

“I’m worried you’ll sleep poorly, and I’ll be to blame if you don’t play well.”

“I promise I’m going to sleep better with you here, but if it makes you feel better, you can take the pull-out couch.” He lets go and heads to his suitcase. “Plus, if I can’t play well after sleeping with the most amazing girl in the world, I should probably reconsider my profession.”

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