Page 42 of Bartholomew
“Please don’t. I know, I —” she began, but I was not going to have any of that.
“Hush,” I spoke gently, my hands going to her hips and pulling her back to me. “You are beautiful. Every. Single. Inch of you.” I pressed a kiss to her belly between each word, showing her as well as telling her exactly how I felt about her body.
“I know my stomach is big,” she began again.
“Delilah, you are no small waif of a girl. But what you fail to realize,” I began, staring up at her with all the honesty and sincerity I possessed, “is that I don’t want some girl. What stands before me, whether she realizes it or not, is a goddess of a woman. A woman I want to explore and make love to.”
I held her gaze for a long moment, praying she would read my truth there. Finally, I felt at least some small margin of tension leave her body. I pressed kisses along her belly, relishing in the softness of her, in her womanhood. She was all woman, and she was all mine.
My fingers found the sides of her panties, tugging them down as I moved my kisses up her stomach and towards her breasts. I slid them down her thighs, noticing how she clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides, doing her best to quell her nervousness.
She stepped out of the panties carefully and I stood before her once more, immediately wrapping my hand around the back of her neck and pulling her in for a heated kiss. I left a measure of the softness behind, wanting instead to show her my passion, to show her just how much I wanted her. My teeth playfully nipped at her lower lip, making her gasp. My tongue delved inside her mouth and tasted her essence, capturing her gasps and sighs as I pulled her closer to me until her breasts pressed against my chest.
I led her to the bed, not breaking our kiss, until the back of her thighs hit the bottom edge of the bed.
“Up on the bed, beautiful. I want to see you sprawled out on our bed for me,” I spoke against her lips. She crawled up on the bed, immediately crossing her legs and covering her breasts. The Dominant in me wanted to scold her and tie her hands to the headboard to stop her from doing so again, but I took a breath and calmed myself. We had all the time in the world.
I laid beside her, letting my gaze rove up and down her body.
“You have no idea how beautiful I think you are, Delilah. Truly and completely,” I reassured her. My fingertips trailed over her soft skin, with no real destination or purpose other than to touch her. I had never felt such soft skin. “Will you let me see you? Every inch of you? Uncover yourself for me and let me touch every place on your body.”
“I have all these…” she trailed off, removing her hands from her breasts to gesture to her stomach.
“All of these, what?” I questioned.
“These lumps and bumps and marks,” she sighed heavily.
“I’m not sure what you mean by lumps and bumps, but these marks,” I began, tracing my fingertips over the stretch marks on her stomach, “only show me the beautiful woman you are. Plus, the way society looks at stupid things like stretch marks is abhorrent to me.”
“In what way?” I noticed the way her arms fell to her sides, no longer covering herself from me.
“Because society only speaks of them in regard to curvy women and mothers, not in regard to men or anyone else. Almost everyone has stretch marks, or will at some point,” I chuckled.
“Not men like you,” she scoffed. I raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“Wanna bet?” I repositioned on the bed, kneeling so that my hip was closer to her. “Look right here,” I commented, pointing to my own almost translucent stretch marks on my hips and leading up to my back. “I grew a ton over one summer and my body had to accommodate. Your body is beautiful, curvy, and so soft I can’t stop touching it. Your stretch marks are a part of you, a beautiful part of you that I can’t stop touching.”
I let my words sink in as I used my position to lean over her more, kissing along the tops of her breasts.
“I want to touch, kiss, and make love to every inch of you, Delilah. Every delectable inch.” My words were true, and I was going to show her with my actions over and over until she believed me.
I moved my kisses down, using those very stretch marks that lined her breasts as a guide, until I reached the darkened areolas of her breasts and then the pointed peaks of her aroused nipples.
“Are you cold, or are you aroused? Let’s see, shall we?” I murmured against her flesh, taking one point into my mouth with a soft suction.
“Oh mercy!” she cried out. My teeth grazed the tender nub of her breast and I smiled against her. I filled my hands with her curves, leaving and teasing the turgid peak of her nipple until she was writhing beneath me. Sensitive breasts. Noted.
“I am growing to love that phrase, Delilah. Let’s see how many times I can make you scream it.” My words halted as I renewed my efforts on the other nipple, letting my fingertips tease the peak I had just left, the moist tip flicking back and forth between my fingers until I grasped it in a firm pinch.
“Ollie!” she cried out, her back arching as I pulled the peak out just enough to give that delicious pressure.
“So good,” I growled against her skin, sucking her nipple back into my mouth and worrying the tip with my teeth softly. Her sounds grew louder, more frantic as her thighs shifted. “So fucking good.”
“I feel… I… I want…” she stammered as I flicked her nipple with the tip of my tongue. God, the way she squirmed beneath me had me leaking pre-cum onto the coverlet.
“Tell me, babygirl. Tell me what it is you want. Tell me everything. Every detail,” I coaxed her. My fingers trailed lower, over her hips, down to the tops of her thighs, making a circuit of light sensation.
“I feel like everywhere you touch is electrified,” she panted out. Her thighs moved together; her sexual frustration was evident.
