Page 93 of Finding Olivia (Trace + Olivia 1)

I heard my jeans fall to the floor and then we were both left in only our underwear. He moved back up my body, kissing his way there.

When he reached my face, he clasped both of our hands together, and stared into my eyes.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered.

“I’m not.”

He released one of my hands and smoothed his large thumb over the skin between my brows. “This wrinkle here suggests otherwise.”

I swallowed down the lump in my throat. I didn’t know how to express to Trace exactly what I was feeling. I wasn’t scared about the actual sex…I was scared that sex with Trace would only make me fall harder for him.

“I am a little nervous,” I admitted reluctantly.

“Don’t be nervous with me, ever, Olivia,” he whispered, staring intently into my eyes.

“Okay,” I replied but his words had done nothing to ease my racing heart. I feared that it might gallop right out of my chest.

He kissed the dip between my breasts, before releasing my hands, and palming them.

“You have the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen,” he gazed down at them. I squirmed under his scrutiny. He pressed one hand against my stomach, stilling me. “Don’t do that,” he scolded. “There’s no need to be embarrassed I’m just…enjoying the view.”

I nodded.

His hands skimmed lower and then came back to my breasts.

Goosebumps broke out across my skin from pleasure and my head rolled to the side.

He gripped my chin and forced my head back.

“Don’t look away from me and keep your eyes open. I want to see you,” he rasped.

I nodded, my voice leaving me, and he placed a tender kiss on the end of my nose.

“Look at me,” he warned again when my eyes threatened to flutter closed.

I opened them wide and he smiled.

His head dipped down and he began to kiss my neck. Then moved down to my breasts, where he spent an exceptionally long time, and over my stomach. His tongue flicked out, playing with my belly button ring.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he whispered so low that I couldn’t be sure I heard him correctly.

His fingers hooked into the edge of my panties but he didn’t pull them down.

One hand ventured inside the elastic and he hissed through his teeth when he found how wet I was.

One finger slipped inside, pumping in and out.

“Trace,” I gasped.

Just as I was getting accustomed to the feeling, he removed his finger, and pulled my panties down, kissing my thighs and calves as he went.

His eyes flicked up to meet mine before his tongue delved into me.

“Trace, don’t,” I cried, but it was too late.

His tongue swirled over my sensitive nub and I bucked against him. His chuckle vibrated against me, and if I had half a brain left, I’d be blushing.

He lapped at my aching core and I was a willing prisoner to the feel of it.

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