Page 50 of Brazen Mistakes

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

His tongue spirals my now taut nipple. When he pulls it into his mouth, I shudder, suddenly alight from inside, his hands tracing the sides of my rib cage, his touch as necessary as the next breath. This aching torture, this all-consuming sensation, so much from so little, it hardly makes sense.

But it’s RJ.

So it makes all the sense in the world.

He switches to my other breast, and I can’t keep in any more whimpers, the pleasure so vivid it needs to exist outside of me. And this time, when he pulls me into his mouth, his teeth nip at me. I buck under him, wanting more, needing more. “RJ, oh God,” I manage, before dragging him to my lips, needing to taste him, needing to show him how much I love what he’s doing to me.

We roll again, and I find myself above him, plastering my skin to his, the slip bunched around my waist, my hips grinding into him through his pajama pants. He groans at the contact, so I rock against him again, wanting him to feel as alight as I do.

His hands trail down my back, over my ass, urging me to rub against him, his hardness obvious through the thin material of his bottoms.

Our tongues clash, the peace broken by my own urgent need, but he meets me, needing me just like I need him.

“Shit, sugar. I’ve got more I want to do yet.”

“Yeah?”

“So fucking much. I don’t want to come in my pants. Get that pretty pussy up here.”

My brain stutters as I pull back to look at him. “Really?”

“Girl, I’ve been dreaming about tasting you since I saw how wet and delicious you can get.”

“Oh.”

His grin is soft, but his eyes are bright as he waits.

“Are you sure? I’ve never…”

“Yes. This is definitely on that list of mine. And it’s about damn time you get this.”

“What about you?”

“Ladies first, sugar.”

Out of objections, I swallow. Shuffling to the head of the bed feels bigger than tying Jansen to the bedposts.

This is RJ. I’m his first in so many things. It feels odd that I should get a first out of this, too.

Or maybe it’s just right.

The urge to check again, to make sure I’m not asking too much, floods me, but before I let my fears fall from my lips, RJ pulls my leg over his head, fingers tracing a looping circle around my opening. “Oh shit,” I gasp, fears and words forgotten.

“I want to taste you,” he says.

“Please do.”

“Tell me if something doesn’t feel good, okay?”

I meet his eyes. “This will be good. There’s no way it can’t be.”

“I’m a novice. Feel free to direct.”

I choke on my laugh as he pulls my hips down and his tongue traces the same loopy circle his finger made earlier.

---