Page 26 of Last First Love
It's better than I imagined it was going to be. And believe me, I spent more than a little bit of my teenage years imagining Ken Daniels pressed up against me.
His mouth moves against mine again, then departs to slide along the line of my jaw, down my neck and then across the front of one of my breasts. And the way he laves and bites the skin there is nothing short of miraculous to me. I've never felt this kind of excitement with a man, and I'm still mostly dressed. He's fully dressed. I haven't touched him at all yet, and the realization of that makes me pull up short and pause.
He feels me go tense and pauses his delicious assault on my nipples. "What's wrong?" His voice is barely above a whisper, the heat from his breath making the wet, kissed areas of my skin go suddenly hot then cool.
"Nothing, I—" Words are all jumbled in my head right now and it's incredibly difficult to form a complete sentence. I shake my head for a moment to clear away the fog of lust and try again. "I want to touch you too," I confess.
"Oh, fuck yes. Please Lily." His voice is doing crazy things to me, spiking my blood like a drug every time he utters my name like an urgent prayer from between those deeply talented lips of his. And the way that he's acting so desperate for my touch is nothing short of an incredible turn on to me too.
I reach for him then, loosening the button on his pants and tugging impatiently to reach for him. From feeling him pressed up against me, I know he's a large man and obviously erect already. But I'm dying to get my hands on him, to feel his skin against my own at last. To give him a small taste of the pleasure that he's been giving me.
And when I slip my hand into his boxer briefs, I'm briefly taken aback at just how hot and hard he is, how slippery the head of his cock is from all the pre-cum that's been leaking from him as he touched and tasted my skin. His entire body goes tense as I slide my hand against him, trying to wrap my fingers around him and failing because of his girth.
Then he lets out a harsh breath and moves his attentions to my other breast, licking and sucking me in time with the halting movements of my hand against his skin. His hips begin to thrust as I touch him, and finally I pull my hand away and he stops what he's doing.
"Lily, what's wrong?" His voice this time is tight with tension, the closeness of his orgasm right there, a few moments away.
But instead of answering him, I wait until his attention shifts to me, his eyes on my face again. And then I very slowly, very deliberately slide my tongue along the palm of my hand before I reach for him again.
He releases a moan that sounds as if he's in deep pain, and I admit, it thrills me a bit to hear him right at the edge of losing control. I want to make a man like this lose control, at least once. I've never held this kind of power over someone like this, and especially not someone so far out of my league that it feels like a dream for us to be touching like this.
He surges against my slick palm and lets out another, harsher sounding moan. And it thrills me all over again because I'm the one touching him. I'm the one doing this to him, and I can't get over how right it feels.
"Do you like that?" I whisper to him. The tempo of his movements increases at my words, and he leaves my breasts and comes back to kiss me like I'm the last drop of water in the desert, the last breath of air before drowning. He kisses me the way I've always wanted to be kissed, and I'm so grateful that he's the one to kiss me like this at last.
His tongue and teeth clash against mine, and he's nibbling at my mouth, pulling and sucking on my lips and tongue in time to my movements against his thick, heavy cock. I want to drive him over the edge like this, right now in my entryway with my hand down his pants like my dirtiest dreams come to life.
So I reach lower, move my hand toward the base of his thickness and ever so lightly stroke his balls. At this, he twitches and I can actually feel his balls tighten under my questing fingers. I twist my hand around his cock and stroke him faster, harder until he moans out my name and then spurts hotly into my hand.
"Oh shit," he finally says, breathing heavily against my neck and ruffling all the little hairs there.
I let go of him and pull my hand from his pants, holding it between us. "I'm going to go wash up," I finally manage. I can't believe how quickly this scenario when from uncontrollably sexy to awkward, but that's just how things go with me I guess.
He coughs out a laugh. "Me too, I guess. Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"
I shake my head, even as I head toward the sink. "Second door on the right. Help yourself." But even as I turn on the water, my curiosity gets the better of me and I lift my sticky hand to my mouth.
It tastes salty, earthy, and exactly what I'd imagined a distilled version of Daniels would taste like. For a brief moment, I wish I'd dropped to my knees and let him spill into my mouth.
"Fuck, Lily. That's so fucking hot." And he's on me, his front pressed to my back, his hands all over my body, divesting me of my bra and making quick work of unfastening my pants too.
His mouth slides to my ear. "I'm going to your bathroom, but you'd better get the rest of these clothes off before I come back." His hand slides over the slope and curve of my belly to rest over the silk and lace of my underwear. I know he has to feel how soaked I am.
My breath catches in my throat. "I need a shower. If we're going to do anything."
His laugh in my ear is wicked, full of sexy intent. "No. I'll draw you a bath. We can both get in together and you can let me wash all the places you want me to touch you at. Then I'll wash all of the places where I'm dying to touch you too."
I stop breathing at the heated promise of his words. "Go start the water."
And with that, he leaves for my bathroom and turns on the tap, leaving me wondering if I'm making a complete fool of myself over this man or if he really feels the heat between us too.
Ken
The gods of seduction are smiling on me because for some reason, Lily is a candle hoarder.
I know, I know. It's wrong to snoop through someone's medicine cabinet but when I'm in there de-jizzing, it seems like a reasonable enough time to go ahead and check to make sure she doesn't have some sort of herpes cream lurking in her drawer.
She's not that type, and I know it. But I'm definitely nosy enough about the woman I’m hoping to take to bed that I'm willing to poke through her things and get to know more about her. All of her. Including her shampoo and toothpaste choices.
