Page 103 of Hot Lap
A little more bump and grind, a little more teasing and touching my own skin, before I reach behind me, unhook the bra with a little shrug, and slowly slide one strap down. Then the other. I’m facing him now, but when the cups slip forward, I turn away.
I let it fall, then look over my shoulder at my husband, and give him a little one-shoulder “Oh well” shrug.
“Tease.” He’s leaning forward, hands on his thighs, breath uneven.
I smile, dance down and up, hips swiveling, making him wait. Then I turn and let him see the girls in all their perfect naked glory. Yes, I really do have quite a nice pair of tits.
“Goddamn,” he hisses, to which I wink and do another slow hip grind as Beth begs her man to give her a reason to be a woman.
Finally, it’s time for the panties.
I hook my thumbs under the waistband and tease along it, taunting him as I dance and grind. Finally, I pull them down in one slow glide. Step out. Kick them toward him like a prize.
He catches them, of course, ’cause he’s a champion.
Then I climb into his lap, straddling him, warm and bare and smug as hell.
“You looked like you needed a distraction tonight,” I whisper against his mouth as I cradle his face.
“Yeah. This’ll do.” He slides his hands up my thighs, slow and steady, palms broad and warm against my skin. His touch isn’t tentative. It’s reverent. Like he knows exactly what he’s holding.
Me.
“You trying to kill me?” His voice is low and gravel-soft as his thumbs trace the curve of my hips.
I tilt my head. “A little bit.”
He laughs, but it’s tight, wrecked. Maybe his lungs don’t quite work anymore.
I rock forward just enough to drag myself across the front of his trousers.
He groans and grips tighter. “Fuck. You’re so beautiful, Mai.”
I lean in, mouth close to his ear. “Then touch me like you mean it, Reece.”
He shifts under me, hands sweeping up my sides, dragging me tighter against him as his mouth finds mine. There’s no hesitation. No slow build.
He kisses me like he’s finally found the thing he didn’t know he needed.
I grind down, rolling my hips deliberately. His hands slide to my ass and pull me tighter against the hard line of his cock.
“Let me taste you,” I whisper.
His breath stutters. “Fuck, Mai?—”
I slide off his lap and onto my knees, easing between his legs. He watches me with eyes gone dark and reverent.
I open his shirt and kiss the trail of dark hair just above his waistband, taking my time and relishing the heat and musk of his skin. Then I undo his belt and zipper, and tug down his trousers and briefs just enough to free him.
He’s already hard and slick.
I wrap one hand around the base of his cock and look up at him as I lap the head like a fuckin’ ice cream cone.
He groans and grips the edges of the couch.
I drag my tongue along the underside, then take him into my mouth. I’m going down slow and deep, just like I stripped, letting him feel the heat of my mouth, the brush of my teeth. This man needs to be savored, and I’m the lucky woman who gets a taste.
His hips shift, trying not to thrust. I moan softly around him just to hear his rumbling answer.
