Page 60 of The Pucker and the Princess
For his part, he’s grinding into me, seeming to relish how long he’s drawing out the anticipation. When he finally pushes himself up and reaches for the waist of my pants, he chuckles at my sigh of relief and muttered, “Thank Christ.”
He strips off my pants, tossing them away as well, then stands and undoes his own pants, his eyes never leaving me. At least not until he moves to a dresser in the corner of his room where he turns his back to me and rummages through a drawer for a second.
Propping my head on my hand, I take advantage of the brief pause to look at him again. The only light is coming from the open door, a wedge of golden lamplight illuminating the strongmuscles of his back and shoulders. It’s crazy to think that he’s mine …
Because that’s what we decided, right? That we’re together now? No more pretending to be just friends, no more ignoring our clearly overwhelming attraction, no more pretending we don’t want relationships when all we really want is to be with each other.
I mentally review our conversation to convince myself that’s what’s happening, but I’m once again distracted by a half-naked Dozer turning to me with a condom packet in hand, his pants undone and hanging loose at his trim waist.
God, he’s beautiful.
One corner of his mouth quirks up when he sees me staring at him. Stepping closer, he tosses the condom packet on the bed, then does a little tease, hooking his thumbs in the waist of his underwear and tugging them down, then back up, as though the tight white fabric does much of anything to hide the raging erection behind it.
I can’t help giggling at his antics, though, and with a wide grin on his face, he finally strips out of the rest of his clothes, and I get to see him in all his glory. He’s a work of art, all carved muscle and sinew, the V of his hips leading to the proud erection standing up and beckoning to me.
He steps closer to the bed, and I reach for him, my hand caressing his strong thigh as he climbs on the bed with me, gathering me to him and burying his face in the crook of my neck. “I don’t think I’m going to last long if you’re looking at me like that,” he whispers against my skin, then nips it, making me gasp before soothing the sting with his lips and tongue. Lookingme in the face, he shakes his head. “And if you keep making those noises, I’ll be done before I’m even inside you.”
Chuckling, I hitch a leg over his thigh. “Good thing we have all night.”
His eyebrows arch at the latent challenge in my words, then he breaks out in a wide grin. “I guess it is, isn’t it?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Dozer
I keep havingto stop to reassure myself that this is real. That Marissa is really here, naked in my bed, reaching for me, touching me, kissing me. That it’s not just a dream that I’ll wake up to discover isn’t real. That my real life is a waking nightmare because this dream isn’t true.
But then she touches me, kisses me, nips at my lip, and her teeth scraping on my skin is more effective than any pinch to let me know that I’m not dreaming.
I wasn’t joking when I said I wasn’t going to last long, and I’m determined to make sure she finishes tonight. Rolling her to her back, I settle between her thighs again, taking a deep breath and forcing my hips to stay still when my cock nestles against her belly. I want to thrust against her, to find my way inside her and spend myself. And I will. But not until I know she’s come first.
Once again, I kiss and caress my way down her body, spending time with her nipples again because I like the way it makes her gasp and arch and writhe. Bringing my knees under me, I keepone nipple in my mouth while I slide a hand down her side, caressing the spot where her waist nips in beneath her rib cage, spending plenty of time at her hip and ass as well before gently moving her leg a little farther to the side, opening her for me.
Sliding my fingers back and forth up her inner thigh, I tease the edge of her pussy until she starts making soft whining sounds in her throat, her hips moving, clearly desperate for more. And then I give her what she wants, softly stroking her pussy with just my finger tips and then moving away.
“Jesus fuck,” she hisses, and I gently bite her nipple, making her gasp again.
I keep this up—gentle touches, soft bites, a little more and a little more until finally I sink a finger inside her, provoking a moan, her pussy already starting to clench around me. Pulling that finger out, I add a second, moving them slowly in and out, letting my thumb settle over her clit to draw tiny circles the way I did to her nipple when I first let it free.
“Please, Dozer,” she gasps. “Please, please, please.”
Releasing her nipple, I sit up, unable to keep the satisfied smile from my face. Maybe it makes me a bastard, but I like hearing her beg like that, knowing I’m the only one who can truly give her satisfaction right now. Keeping my hand in place, I ease myself back and down until I’m lying on my belly between her thighs, looking up the length of her body to find her looking down at me.
Holding her gaze, I run my tongue from where my fingers are still inside her, up around and over her clit, and down the other side.
She shudders, letting her head drop back, curses falling from her lips.
Grinning, I do it again. And again. And again. Faster each time until my tongue is moving on her clit, and she’s moaning and cursing and writhing, and I can tell she’s about to explode.
Her legs try to clamp closed, but I hold them open, never letting up until she comes with a shout, her whole body shuddering, her pussy contracting around my fingers like she’s trying to milk them.
I stay with her, licking her gently, pumping my fingers slowly, helping her ride out her orgasm until she’s limp and sated, pleading with me to stop.
Sitting up, I wipe my mouth with my hand, slowly pulling my fingers out of her. Marissa has one arm thrown over her face, but as I withdraw from her, she lets it fall, watching me as I lift my hand to my mouth and suck my fingers clean.
Her eyes widen, and she whispers, “Jesus fuck,” again.
Grinning, I reach for the condom and tear it open. “I’d ask if you want to do the honors,” I murmur, “but I’m not sure you’re capable at the moment, and also, if you touch me, I might explode. So that’ll have to wait until next time.”
