Page 88 of Insatiable

The image will haunt me forever. In a good way. I think.

I break the kiss, rising on my knees and dragging my hooded gaze down her body. Each curve. Each inked design. I want to touch her everywhere.

“You aren’t real, Freckles.” I splay my hand on her stomach and slide it up. “So fucking beautiful. You were made for me.”

“As much as I don’t want to stroke your ego, you’re not too bad yourself,” she replies with a giggle, and the way she saysstrokehas my dick jerking.

There’s no hiding how aroused I am. I’m not small, and my shorts do nothing to conceal the tenting of the fabric. She keeps glancing down at it.

“We’re going slow,” she says. “Right?”

We.

I nod and remove my hand. “Right. But if you want something,” I say, eyes trailing back down the length of her body, “tell me.”

She puts my hand on her ribs. “I want you to kiss me again.”

Oh thank fucking God. If she’d asked me to eat her out or to fuck her, I would’ve disintegrated into a pile of dust.

I lower onto her and crush my mouth to hers, devouring her lips. She sucks on my tongue, and I groan into her mouth as her ankle hooks behind my leg.

“I trust you,” she whispers to me, snatching my jaw, so my gaze is pulled back to meet hers. Her hair surrounds the pillow; green eyes, full lips. “I want you to trust me too.”

She takes the hand on her ribs and slowly slides it under her bra – thin black lace with stitched detail in rose that matches her panties. I grit my teeth and control each breath through my nostrils at the softness of her skin there.

“I trust you,” she says again.

My hand freezes, my lungs seizing. The fuck am I doing? I can’t sit here and fondle her. I can’t do any of this without messing up. I’ll do it wrong.

She notices my hesitation. “You won’t hurt me.”

“I could.”

She holds my cheek delicately, her voice low. “No you couldn’t, and you won’t.”

“You want me to do this?” I ask as I cup her breast, needing confirmation. She was the one who put my hands on her, but right now I need to hear her say that three-lettered word.

“Yes,” she breathes. “I want you to. But I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. We can stop – or slow down. Just tell me.”

Without having to think again, I slip my other hand under her bra and palm her other breast. My mind hasn’t caught up with my body yet, so as I shove her bra to her chin to get a full view, I caress her. Her tits are handfuls, full and perky, and I want to know what they’d feel like in my mouth. How much pleasure would she get from me kissing them?

Her nipples tighten to peaks as I swipe one with my thumb, and she lets out a quiet moan.

“Fuck,” I blurt.

Stacey sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and bites it, her breathing heavier. “They aren’t big or anything special.”

“Be quiet.”

She grins, but it falls, her mouth open as I roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I lean down to kiss her again, swallowing her little whimpers as I pinch and roll, caressing her breasts while I devour her.

Finally, I release her nipples, shift onto my back and pull her on top of me.

I tug at my top. “Take this off,” I order, nearly exploding in my boxers as she whips it from her body and tosses it behind her. “Fucking perfect.”

She breathes deeply as I reach up and palm her tits again. My dick is straining in my shorts, and the fact she’s sitting an inch from it isn’t helpful. I’ve never looked at someone and wanted to fuck them. Yeah, I’ve imagined myself putting Stacey in every position possible, but I’ve never wanted to act on those scenarios.

Not that she isn’tfuckable; I’m just not that type of guy.

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