Page 68 of Champagne Fizz

“Sure. We can chat about anything you want,” I say, still holding my hands up and away from her. “Wedding cakes, spreadsheets, Sue Blade.”

“Are you making fun of me again?”

“Absolutely not,” I say honestly, trying to keep her calm. “If you want to enlighten me on Sue Blade, then go ahead. I’m not going anywhere.” I motion to our position and how she’s in the power position. “I promise to be nothing but an apt listener right now. No commentary.”

“You’re at my mercy, huh?” she asks, and I can feel her legs relax as she lets me take more of her weight.

“One hundred percent,” I admit. “Woman on top. Your ballgame.”

“Mmmm,” she reacts like she enjoys that idea, but her thighs also clench. Perhaps the woman-on-top comment was a little too sexual. She mews for a second and her hands dig into my shoulders as a small tremor echoes through her.

“Breathe,” I instruct, “and just know that every noise you make is sexy as hell.”

She bites her lip and looks at me, her gaze naive and filled with innocence. My cock twitches, going on high alert: sexy virgin, sexy virgin.

“Breathe and take it easy,” I repeat, only those instructions might actually be for me. My heart is already hammering wildly. I never thought a woman sitting on my lap could be so erotic, but here she is getting me hard and I’m not even touching her. “I mean that,” I whisper. “Your moans and gasps—super hot.”

“They don’t feel hot when I make them.” She holds me with a concerned expression, and I want to kiss her, show her exactly the effect she has on me.

“Well, they are,” I insist. “If there’s only one thing you take away from this, it better be that you’re the sexiest damn woman in the universe.”

“I doubt that.”

“Trust me—” A growl deepens my voice and her eyes flick to my mouth. “Everything you do right now is going down in my book under sexiest woman ever.”

She nods her head like she’s trying to believe me.

“You’re doing amazing,” I whisper.

“Can I—?” She reaches forward and touches my glasses, wanting to remove them.

I nod. “Anything you want.”

She delicately takes them off, folding them carefully and placing them on the ledge behind my head. My image of her turns soft, like when there’s too much sunlight in the lens. I can still see her, of course, but all her edges become a fog. I don’t know why that makes me want to touch her more. Maybe it sharpens my senses and makes me focus on the sound of her breath, or the smell of orange juice and mimosas.

“Put your hands on my hands,” I say. “Palm to palm.”

I open my fingers wide, each hand still hovering at my sides near my head. Slowly, she presses one hand into my left palm, then the other into my right. I clasp my fingers around hers and hold her hands tightly.

“Perfect,” I whisper, letting my arms relax as the pressure of her hands pushes mine back. She pins them to the seat cushion, tilting the angle of her body and shifting forward slightly.

“Oh heck—!” Kendall’s mouth drops open, and I realize that with her legs spread open, that slight tilt in position has caused gravity to press her most sensitive parts flush against my legs. “Mmm hmmm,” she whimpers, closing her eyes as her hips buck involuntarily against where I’ve started to thicken. My fingers grip her hands, and she grips me back. “Simon you’re—that—”

She goes hoarse and she leans her forehead against mine, panting heavily—open mouthed—as soft hot twitches radiate from where her legs are spread wide.

“Just feel it, beautiful,” I coax, not moving, but letting her rock ever so slowly back and forth. When she opens her eyes to look at me, her gaze is dark with lust, she hasn’t come yet, but that flushed delirium shows me she’s close.

“Simon, I’m so—” she gasps, as another ripple shoots over her skin. “I’m so wet, Simon!”

“Fuck,” I growl, trying to keep my composure. “Kendall, if you’re going to talk dirty to me, I’m going to get harder than I already am.”

She whimpers at that comment and adjusts her hips, pressing her open legs more deliberately against my thickening ridge. I grip her hands, so mine don’t involuntarily reach down and push away the fabric of her shorts, allowing me to feel the soaked heat of her innocence.

I want my fingers inside her. I want to hear the shock in her breath when I plunge my fingers into her pussy and find that place no one’s ever detonated.

But that’s too fast.

She isn’t ready.

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