Page 41 of Loving You

She did so immediately, not breaking eye contact, and it sent another pulse of heat through me, straight to my needy dick. My hips bucked against her center, and her eyelids drooped in pleasure.

Fingers on the hem of her shirt, I slowly raised it, inch by inch, anticipation mingling with the desire pounding through me. She squirmed on my lap, chest downright heaving as my knuckles dragged up and over her breasts, finally slipping it over her head and bearing more of her beautiful skin to my eyes. Her hands dropped to my shoulders.

Something flashed in her expression—a wariness or shot of fear, like there was any chance in the universe I wouldn’t like what I saw.

I vowed to uncover what had caused that, but for now, I focused my energy on showing her exactly how much I liked everything about her.

“Fuck, April, you’re perfect.” She wore a soft lacy bra that made her look like dessert served on a perfect little platter, each breast covered enough to leave me restless to see more.

Her nipples were peaked, hardened to tight little points, and begging to be touched. Ignoring how much it gutted me to see relief in her expression from my praise since we’d settle that later, I pulled her close, kissing a trail from her neck to her chest, then pulled the cup of her bra down and took her nipple in my mouth.

She moaned, and the sound shot straight to my dick. With my mouth on her, I flicked her nipple, lapping at the hard bud, and slipped my hands into her panties.

No more slow build. The instant I felt her wet and ready, I groaned. “You’re so wet for me, love.”

She made another sound, something a little tortured, a little delighted, and her hips bucked toward me. I chuckled at her clear demand, and then circled her clit, applying increasing pressure as she responded with little hitches and sighs until I couldn’t take it anymore and slid a finger inside her incredibly tight channel.

“Yes, Eric,” she breathed, her body rocking into my hand as I eased in a second finger and continued to stroke her with an instinctively made-for-her rhythm until her chest flushed, and it felt like every muscle in her body was tightening.

“That’s it. Come for me, love. Right now, on my fingers. Let me feel you come.” I bit lightly on her breast, then sucked her nipple into my mouth with a little more force than I’d used thus far, and it wasn’t long before she began to shatter.

Loudly.And with my name rasping from her lips like a prayer, over and over again.

I’d never forget that sound in all my life, and I instantly wanted more of it. I wanted to hear it a hundred times in the next hour. I mentally rearranged my life so I could do whatever it took to make her gasp and groan at the same time, and to know that I’d given her release and pleasure and all good things.

She rode my hand, chasing the end of her orgasm as her body finished pulsing around my fingers, her nails digging into my shoulders where she held on.

When her breathing evened out, she opened her eyes and hit me with look that made my stomach clench and my cock throb.

Her mouth opened, and I held my breath, hoping—no, praying—that the next words out of her mouth would be that she was ready for more.

Not that we’d go there yet, of course. This had been just for her, and I wasn’t expecting reciprocation. It was a taste of what we could be… but first, she had to give me something I wanted in return.

And I wasn’t talking about sex, but the truth.

But no words came out, and then suddenly, she was off me. She grabbed her clothes and bolted toward the guest room so fast I could hardly believe it’d happened.

Had I just hallucinated all of that?

Based on the steel pipe in my pants and the slickness still on my hand, no. I stood, stifling a pained sound as I adjusted my stupid fucking cock, and walked to her room, my mind a mess.

We’d done things out of order.

I had no regrets about what just happened, but April clearly did, which confirmed we should’ve talked first. I didn’t know how long it’d been for her, but I had a nagging suspicion she wasn’t really hooking up with men left and right like I’d thought. Like she’d let the world believe.

And whatever that look in her eyes was when I took off her shirt… the pieces were clicking together.

Fuck.

I should’ve made her tell me what was going on instead of letting her bait me into getting her off.

Not that it’d been a hard sell.

I knocked lightly. “April. You okay?”

Shit.Maybe even that much of me taking control had scared her. Yes, she’d orgasmed—and there was no faking it in that instance—but what if it’d upset her? She didn’t need me ordering her around. She needed the freedom to be the one in charge.

And if that was the case, how long until she realized I wasn’t that guy?

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