Page 38 of Beauty and the Cop
"Please," she breathes, helping me lower the dress the rest of the way.
Each bit of her skin I unveil makes me ache a little more. I want to put my mouth on every inch of her, kiss every curve, and lick every faint freckle dusted across her back. I settle for running my fingers down her spine and around her waist. Her curves are just as soft beneath my hands as I imagine they'd be, just as perfect.
She melts into me. The heat of her bare skin against mine acts like a brand, searing into me.
"Fuck," I hiss in her ear, closing my eyes so I can live in this moment for a little while—not long, just a minute, just enough to sear the electric sensation into my mind.
She turns her face into mine, a soft sigh whispering from her lips as if she feels exactly the same way. I slide my hand up the swell of her stomach, loving how her body moves beneath my fingers. She is so soft. I'll never get enough of that.
Her body shudders as my fingers dance higher, my palms sweeping over the bottoms of her breasts. I heft their weight in my hands before circling her taut nipples with my fingers. Jesus, her breasts are even more perfect than I deserve—a handful I can get lost in.
She cries out then, her body arching into my touch, pleading for more.
I want to run my lips across the tips of her breasts; suck and bite on them until she writhes for me like she does in my dreams. I pinch them instead, rolling her nipples between my fingers, gently tugging, twisting, tweaking until she pants, her body moving like a wave against me.
I can't take any more.
I release her nipples after one final pinch, moving my hands back the way they came—down the soft swell of her belly and lower, until my fingers brush across the waistband of her panties.
She holds her breath against me as I move lower, brushing my palm across her pussy, cupping that little slice of heaven in my hand. Even through the fabric, I can feel the wet heat of her. She's soaked for me.
I press the heel of my hand into her, pulling a decadent moan from her lips, followed by another as I move in a circular motion, rubbing her in just the right way.
"Fuck, I need to feel you on my fingers again," I mutter, sliding my hand into her panties. I pull them down as my fingers quest lower over her bare lips and then lower still. "Oh. Fuck."
She really is soaked for me.
"Noah," she moans. "Noah."
"Spread your legs, baby," I say.
She follows my command without question, parting her legs so I can feel more of her. I press my lips against her neck again, licking and sucking as my fingers slide through her juices, rubbing against her clit and then lower.
She moans again for me, her arms locked around my neck to hold her upright as I push one finger inside her, and then another. I twist my fingers, flicking my thumb against her swollen clit as my fingers work inside her. She's so damn tight, like a vise burning around my fingers, sucking them in deeper.
I rake my teeth over her shoulders, and sweep my tongue across her spine. Her arms slide away from me, allowing me to kneel. I brush my lips over the curve of her waist, and dip my tongue into the indentations above her luscious ass. And lower still, until I sink my teeth into the twin swells of her round ass.
I keep my fingers working inside her as I urge her closer to the wall, following her on my knees until her breasts brush against the cool paint, pulling a little cry of shock from her lips.
I nudge her legs further apart, slip my body between them until I can—
"Oh, fuck yeah," I whisper as I catch my first glimpse of her pussy. Of my hand working those pretty pink folds. I have to have a taste. Have to, as in can not fucking resist lining my mouth up with that sweet little pussy and covering it entirely.
Her body bucks above me as I drag one of her long legs over my shoulder and bury my face in her, devouring her like a man starving. And I am starving for the honey flowing from her and into my mouth, across my chin, and dripping onto my chest. Starving to death for it.
She cries out when I suck her clit into my mouth, moving my head back and forth, working her over just like I've dreamed about doing. But the real thing, well, is light-years beyond the fantasies I've had for the last month.
Her taste is all salt and sweet, and thick and heat. The way her body writhes and bucks, and the sounds of the sobs of pleasure tearing from her throat… Yeah, my fantasies didn't get those quite right.
"Does it feel good, baby?" I back off to ask, my voice thick with desire. Want, need, and the feel of her on my tongue all conspire to drive me over the edge. My cock screams at me to replace my tongue and ride her hard.
Goddamn, she is so fucking tight.
I pause, lips against her thigh, as realization slides through me.
"Elsie, baby. Am I your first?" My voice is as gentle as I can make it.
She's silent. My heart hammers as I lift my palm off her ass and caress up her spine, soothing the tension there. This isn't an inquisition, and I don't want her to feel that way. This is a matter of ensuring she has what she needs.
