Page 133 of Drop Shot
I’m dressed for comfort on the plane which makes undressing me easier for him. He slides my tank top up, exposing my bare breasts since I didn’t bother with a bra.
“Fuck,” he groans, eyes zeroed in on my boobs. “I love your tits.” He cups them in his hands. “They’re the perfect size.”
The compliment has me flushing. I don’thatemy boobs, but I’ve always worried they might be seen as too small. It didn’t help my insecurity when my high school boyfriend told me I should get implants. But Elias’s praise erases those old feelings, replacing it with a feeling of pride instead.
He still hasn’t told me he loves me, but I know he loves my body because he lovesmeand I’m eternally grateful for that.
Lowering his head, he sucks my nipple into his mouth. I gasp, my fingers digging into the curls on the back of his head. “That feels so good,” I gasp.
The backs of my knees hit the bed and I go down, bringing him with me.
“I can make you feel even better.” There’s a glint in his eyes at the challenge.
I don’t say anything because I know the things he can do with his tongue and cock and like I always tell him, he doesn’t need me to inflate his ego further.
He pushes my tank top the rest of the way off but instead of dropping it to the floor or leaving it where it is, he uses the fabric to bind my wrists together. After he tests the snugness he checks in with me.
“Is this okay?”
I nod and realize he’s going to ask me to speak to confirm and give a breathless, “Yes.”
“Such a good girl,” he croons, running his hands down the length of my body.
I don’t know what it says about me that I like being called that so much.
He undoes the laces on my sneakers and takes them and my socks off, setting them on the floor.
“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs as he pulls my sweatpants and panties off, leaving me entirely bare to him while he’s still fully dressed. In the past I might’ve felt vulnerable, but with Elias I feel empowered. The way he looks at me doesn’t leave room for any doubt of how he feels about me. It’s impossible not to feel powerful and sexy when he looks at me like I’m his whole world.
“Shirt,” I beg, poking at his chest with my foot. “I want to see your chest.”
He grins, looping his thumbs into the back of his shirt and tearing it over his head. “You like my muscles, baby?”
I roll my eyes. “I like your tattoos. The abs are just a bonus.”
That grin goes lopsided. “Such a wicked mouth you have. Lucky for you, I like it when you’re a little mean to me.”
“You’re so weird.”
He mock frowns. “Are you really going to call the guy about to go down on youweird?That’s a poor reflection on yourself, babe.”
It’s so easy with him—the banter, the romance, the sex and intimacy—all of it. I realize this is how it’s supposed to be. A relationship is never going to be perfect. There will be disagreements and fights, that’s natural, but you should also be friends and have fun with each other.
He leans over me, a hand on each side of my hips. “What are you thinking about?”
“How much I like you.”
He chuckles, dipping his head down to my neck where his breath tickles my sensitive skin. “You like me, huh?”
“Yes,” I gasp as his teeth bite into the flesh of my shoulder. “Good.” He licks at the spot he just bit. “I like you, too, baby. A lot. Maybe even too much.” He peppers kisses across the tops of my breasts and down my stomach until he settles between my legs. “And this pussy? God, this pussy, Whim. I love it so much. I could worship this pussy every day if you let me. I’d die a happy man right here between your legs.”
“Then shut up and put your mouth to good use.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he growls.
The moment his mouth is on my core I lose all sensible thought. All I am is a big ball of feeling. Wiggling against him, I silently beg for more and whimper when it’s too much, but he doesn’t let up. My wrists strain against the tank top tied around them. I want to touch him, but I can’t and it’s maddening, which is probably what he wanted—to drive me insane until I’m a begging, wanton mess for him and don’t care who hears me scream.
“Elias,” I pant his name. “I’m close.”
