Page 128 of Promise Me Nothing
“You smell so good,” I say, tracing my nose up the crook of her neck and up to her ear.
She giggles softly when I nibble her there, but it turns into a moan when I drop my mouth to her neck and suck, my hands moving to finish taking her bra off.
I peel back the lacy cups, pulling back to watch as I reveal her pert nipples, a dark pink that always makes me salivate.
Sliding further down the bed, I take her breasts in my hands and mouth, lathering her in the attention I know she wants. That she deserves.
I’ve never been a breast guy, always preferring hips and ass over the top heavy look so many women seem to prefer nowadays. But Hannah could convert me. She doesn’t have anything crazy going on, just the perfect handful. But it’s enough to grip and touch and play.
I suck one nipple into my mouth, keeping my eyes on her face, twirling my tongue around the tip until I can see her squirm. I love when she gets to that place, when just the light stroking and gentle sucking tugs threads down and starts tugging on her core, makes her start to beg for it, pant with need.
Her hands run affectionately over my body, her fingernails pressing in just enough to raise the hairs on my neck and cover my body in goose bumps.
I continue mapping her body, slipping my fingers into the hip of her underwear and sliding them off, her legs lifting to help me. And then I waste no time putting my mouth between those long stems, licking her over and over, sucking hard and soft and fast and slow, trying to make sure she feels everything I feel when my mouth is pressed against her.
Everything I’m too afraid to voice out loud.
I kiss my way back up and refocus my mouth on hers, but allow my fingers to dip into the well between her thighs, tracing over the spaces that I know make her mindless and flustered and flushed with pleasure.
I slide in a second finger and she cried out my name.
“Wyatt,” she says, “oh please, Wyatt.”
I strum over her clit, suck on her neck, search for that spot, the one deep inside of her that makes her fly over that peak at the top.
And when she falls apart, her body going rigid then sinking lax back into the mattress, I reach over to my nightstand and get out a condom.
She looks at me with so much love as I slide it on and then hover above her.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” I say, and I’m almost overwhelmed by how much I mean it.
Because the idea of bringing her any kind of pain is too much for me to process. But there’s a place inside of me that know I mean more than just right now, more than just the physical pain.
Instead of responding, she brings her hands to my face and looks in my eyes, kissing me softly as I begin to slide inside of her.
She looks into my soul as she gives me everything.
It’s so different like this, the depth of emotion surging through me as she welcomes me in, her arms wrapped around me, her face so close to mine.
She winces as I slide deeper, whimpers slightly, but her eyes stay focused, those greens so beautiful she’s all I can see.
When I’m all the way in, our bodies already covered in sweat, I hold myself still, wanting to give her some of the control.
“Are you okay?” I ask, wondering what she’s feeling, if her heart is pulsing with the same amount of emotion that’s thundering around inside of me.
“I feel so full,” she whispers.
I smile and press my lips to hers. “I think you’re trying to say ‘you’re so big.’”
She laughs, and her walls squeeze around me. I can’t help the moan, and how my hips pull back just slightly and then go forward again on their own.
She feels so good. That slick heat enveloping me, pulsing around me as she continues to adjust to this new sensation.
Her hands rest on my ribs, lightly tracing my skin. So delicately.
I slide a hand down and lift her left leg, pressing my fingers against the back of her knee and changing the angle as I pull out and then go back in.
Her mouth drops open, something like wonder on her face.
