Page 43 of Setting Limits

Not a second is wasted before he closes his mouth over mine again, one palm gliding down my body while the other rests next to my head, supporting his weight. A wave of peppermint tickles across my tastebuds while my nose is infiltrated with a spiced scent that warms me all the way through.

We’ve been in each other’s bubble a million times. He’s had his mouth on mine. But only now, when I finally let all these walls down, am I getting every sense of him. It’s overwhelming me, in all the best ways possible.

And all I want is more. I want more of my senses to be overwhelmed with him. What does he look like under the clothes? What does his skin feel like? How will it feel when he touches me?

His hand hesitates as it slips under the hem of my shirt. Despite the way I’m kissing him back with such ferocity, I don’t know how it doesn’t hurt, he’s not sure how far I want this to go.

To make it clear, I arch toward him, moaning as I do so. He gets that message, and slides his hand up my side, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake before he cups my breast. As he moves my bra cup to the side so he can run his fingers over my hardened nipple, the last bit of self-restraint I have snaps like a twig.

My hands fist into his hair and the back of his shirt. My legs wrap around his waist, and I lock my ankles at the base of his back. A squeeze of my breast, and I know Weston feels the same urgency I do.

He kisses over to my neck, grazing his teeth along my collarbone and nipping at any exposed skin he can find. With a quick move, my shirt is off and across the room. There’s a brief pause as he takes me in, his lip between his teeth and his brow scrunched in what almost looks like a pained expression.

When he starts to fall back over me, I put my hands out to stop him, pushing up on my elbows.

“Wait. Your turn.” A one-sided smirk pulls at his mouth, and he reaches behind his head in what has to be the sexiest move of all to tear his shirt off.

“Happy?”

“Extremely so.” You’d never know it looking at Wes, but he is ripped. Sure, he has broad shoulders and a good build. When he wears certain shirts, you can tell he’s muscular. But not like this. This is sheer Greek God perfection.

Leaning with his forearms on either side of me, he rests his chest against mine, his skin like fire, scorching its mark into mine. Nothing will be ever the same after this.

As if reading my thoughts, Wes’s dark eyes lock on mine, and he tucks a wave behind my ear. “Do you want this with me, Chelsea? If you say no, I’ll leave right now, and we can go on like nothing ever happened. But I hope you say yes.”

“And what happens after that?”

“We keep going.”

There’s nothing to think about. The first time his lips touched mine, I was a goner. And this? This little bit that we’ve shared tonight has only solidified it.

“Yes.”

A smile breaks his face for a moment before he crashes his mouth to mine, knotting his fingers in my hair and tugging gently.

“Condoms?”

“Over there.” I point to my top dresser drawer.

A low growl vibrates through him. “Don’t you dare fucking move.”

As if I would. Anticipation alone could keep me in place, but the way he very directly told me to stay has a new level of intrigue bubbling within me. It’s not often that I get told what to do, and even less often that I listen.

I watch him as he moves through my room, the muscles in his shoulders tensing as he digs through my dresser. With a hurried push, it slams shut and takes three big strides back toward the bed, hurriedly removing his pants before climbing back over me, the square foil in his palm.

His legs sit on either side of my hips as he straddles me, his eyes taking me in with a glint in them. “You’re so fucking sexy, Chelsea. I don’t even think you know it. But I’m going to make sure you do. I’m going to make sure you understand what you do to me.”

Leaning forward, he connects his lips with mine, but briefly, before trailing his mouth down my body, leaving kisses in random places. When he gets to the top of my pants, warm breath caresses my cool skin as he heaves an exhale.

He quickly undoes my pants and yanks them off, leaving me in just my bra and panties. I’m happy I went with a matching set today—off white with cherries all over. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips. And then he lowers his mouth and drags his tongue along the hemline of my panties, along my hipbones, and down to my thighs.

Pushing my panties to the side, he slides his fingers along my wetness, a low growl rumbling through him, before he uses his tongue.

And everything else disappears. Nothing in the world exists except for me and Wes in this moment, his tongue lavishing my soaking pussy like nobody ever has before. It’s like he knows exactly what to do, exactly what spots to put pressure, to suck, to fuck.

My hands are fisted into his hair, but I barely even notice.

“Oh my God. Fuck. Wes. Ohmygod.” My words come out mumbled together as his fingers dig into my thighs and he pulls me closer.

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