Page 22 of Dream Lover
When he got to my shoulder blades, the gates of heaven opened wide for me. Whatever stress from this week completely vanished as I laid there and enjoyed his touch.
Every once in a while, he’d touch the shell of my ear or the skin behind it, making me shiver. Conner was good at tempting and teasing.
He tapped my shoulder gently. “Roll over, buttercup.”
My body felt molten, and he had me at his mercy. I would do anything he wanted as long as he kept those skillful fingers biting into my skin with his heated touch. A fever swept over my body as I followed his command.
Completely exposed, I lay open to him. “Look at me, Quinn.” I slowly opened my eyes, gazing at this gorgeous man. “If at any time you feel uncomfortable and want me to stop, say the word.” If he tried to stop, I might have killed him. I gave him a nod, unable to open my mouth because if I did, I was going to beg him to fuck me.
He shifted his attention to making sure I was positioned where he wanted me on the pillows. My slack body went with his movements.
Those pleasurable fingers swept along my arms, up to my neck, burning a trail that led to my nipples. Sweet lord, the things his touch was doing to me.
My nipples pebbled, hardening at his slightest graze against my sensitive buds. I was on fire and gladly would’ve burned for him.
His lips never touched me, but how I ached to feel them between my thighs. I wanted Conner. I had never felt more desperate for a man to be inside of me ever. His massage was erotic torture. Pleasure at his soft caress, pain because it was killing me not to beg him for more.
He said he wanted to be on the same page, and at the moment my brain couldn’t compute what page we were on.
Strong and efficient, his palms slid down my thighs and back up, shoving them further apart. My hips tilted up, urging him, and my knees practically shook.
With every stroke of his fingers Conner came closer and closer to the heart of my desire. A moan escaped the part of my lips as my eyes pleaded with him. His gorgeous blues dilated, hot and hungry.
The energy around us shifted.
His hand went in for the kill. Thumb pressed to my clit, he rubbed lube over my pussy and thus began the yoni massage.
Clutching the sheet below me, I was on the verge of begging him to either stop or keep going. I didn’t know what I wanted, and Conner knew exactly how to work my body.
Just like the video instructed his pace was leisurely, and I knew if he didn’t wrap this up soon, I was going to orgasm, and it was going to be good. He rubbed and pinched my pussy lips between his fingers and thumbs. Every time I twitched or jerked, he’d stop and pause for a beat to let me calm down before starting again.
Frustration washed over me.
Conner read my body, and for him I was an open book, teasing me just to the brink then not giving me the reward.
I was close. So damn close.
Thumb massaging my clit, he increased the pressure. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip. A tremble rocked through me and, right palm facing upward, Conner thrusted a finger inside me. Making a come here motion he found my sacred spot, and that was it.
Bucking my hips, there was no fight left in me. I gave in, and my body did the rest. I rode his hand, taking what he wanted to give. My belly quivered, my orgasm shuddering around his fingers. He never let the pace slow, prolonging my orgasm. Not until I was done did he pull out.
“How was that?” He dipped his head and kissed my forehead. My breathing was labored, and my pulse was crazed.
“That was…” I panted. “I have no words.”
Conner gave me a moment to pull my shit together. Then held his hand out for me, helping me sit up on the table. He handed me a robe that was nearby. I wrapped myself in the soft, warm cotton and slid off the table, my knees shaking.
My cheeks were scarlet.
Conner Davenport, the boy I grew up with, stared at me with such longing and adoration it took all my control not to shove him down on that massage table and have my way with him. “Your turn,” I croaked in a whisper.
He said nothing. He didn’t need to.
Conner kicked off his shoes and removed his clothes so fast you’d thought they were on fire. On the massage table laying on his stomach, the man was magnificent. His body was hard and muscled from all the time he spent outdoors being active. Those muscles could’ve been carved out of stone by the gods of Olympus themselves. Every single inch was sexy as all hell.
Here goes nothing.
Warming the oil between my palms, I started at his shoulders, digging my thumbs into those two special spots that I loved so much.
