Page 13 of Be-Leaf in Love

My thighs part another inch, making him smile. “Is that a signal that I can stop being so very polite?”

“Yes, it is.”

I expect his graceful fingers to sweep up my inner thigh. Instead, his left hand winds around my waist to hold me tight as the right slips into the front of my dress. My head falls back, teeth scraping my bottom lip as I try to hold back a moan. His light touch is a whisper along my skin, teasing and caressing, gently exploring my body. Memorizing it. He tips me back, his head dipping to pull my nipple into his mouth.

I feel like a fern that hasn’t been watered in weeks suddenly being given a long drink. Everything expands as every inch of my body perks up.

Jack’s tongue glides all around my breast, then he blows gently, creating a chill against my damp skin. The second I gasp he sucks my nipple harder, sending tremors down my spine.

His right hand drifts to my inner thigh, stroking my skin, moving inward. There’s tension in his square jaw that points out his own heat, and his eyes flash up at me, making me wonder what’s next.

Our lips brush together again, warmth flowing through me, making my entire body glow. He makes a low noise as his fingertips reach the edge of my panties. “So sweet,” he murmurs low against my lips. “Is this enough for tonight?”

“Not at all. More.”

“That’s my girl.”

Another desperate, hungry kiss. The moment his fingertips slide under the fabric, I melt. My heart is beating triple-time as I gasp, his nimble fingers exploring every dip and crease of my skin.

He groans when he finds me wet. “Everything about you is perfect, flower girl.”

Heat flows through my veins, brand new sensations prickling through every sensitive nook that Jack is discovering. As the pad of his middle finger circles my entrance, I gasp, shuddering against his mouth.

His eyes blaze. “I’m the first man to touch you.” It’s not a question.

“Yes.”

His eyes gleam with a wicked sparkle. “Good.”

His finger barely enters me an inch. It feels like my pussy is trying to pull him deeper. His thumb strokes gently around my clit. When he glides straight across it, I arch my back with a fluttering moan.

“That’s it, gorgeous.” There’s an edge in his voice. “I need to feel you come in my arms.”

Well, I’ve always appreciated Jack’s directness.

His warm, brown eyes look darker in the candlelight. My hand moves slowly against the back of his neck, exploring his skin in the limited area I can reach. Somehow that helps me focus: the deep pleasure of his touch between my thighs is too much to process.

He presses a second finger inside, again, not deep, just enough to work in and out and tease me for what’s to come. Probably not here on the rooftop, but there is no doubt in my mind that he’s going to be my first.

His thumb continues gliding around and across my clit, fingers pumping gently inside me, reducing my breath to short,uneven gaps. He kisses along my throat, then pulls back to watch my eyes.

The greenhouse has become a tropical rainforest with our heat and humidity swirling around us. I can barely breathe as the pressure builds, hard and hot and fast.

Jack looks deeply into my eyes, then smiles, those perfect lips stretching into a filthy grin. “That’s it, gorgeous. Just breathe. Breathe, and relax.”

It’s as if he has the key to both my body and my emotions. As soon as I breathe all the way in and all the way out, relaxing my body just a bit, the pent-up force releases deep inside me. The second I cry out his lips meet mine, muffling my shrieks as the climax tears through me like a cyclone.

Clutching him roughly, I shake in his arms, overwhelmed by all the pleasure. It seems to come in waves which gently recede. I’m left limp and breathless.

“That was incredible,” he murmurs.

Jack is such a gentleman that he grabs a fresh paper napkin, giving me a quick dab before sliding my panties back into place and smoothing my skirt back over my knees.

It hits me again that keeping up appearances is going to be extremely important with him. He runs a company, for goodness’ sake. He can’t be seen canoodling on a rooftop with someone so young, and on paper at least, not his type. Not to mention someone he’s working with.

Still, from the way his arm slides around me to help me up, I can’t help but dream of all the possibilities.

And what might happen when we’re finally alone somewhere totally private.

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