Page 76 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
I bite my bottom lip as it curls into a massive grin. Lewis has gone full-on caveman, and I couldn’t be happier. Or hornier.
I lean back and enjoy the visual of him peeling away each layer of fabric from his body. He doesn’t rush, taking his time unbuttoning each button on his shirt and vest, lowering the zipper of his pants, loosening his belt. The entire time his gaze is locked on mine. I try my hardest to keep eye contact, but my stare slips below many, many times. His body is just too beautiful. It would be a crime not to appreciate it in every state of undress.
When Lewis makes it to his gray boxer briefs, he doesn’t move to take them off. He just runs his thumbs along the waistband.
“Why’d you stop?” I ask, just now realizing how short of breath I am.
“Because I want you to take over. Then I want to lie down on the bed and have you ride my face. Then I want you to ride me.”
A giddy giggle works its way up my chest and throat, spilling from my lips. I sound like a drunk hyena.
“I can manage that.”
A second later I’m up and lunging at him to yank down those pesky boxer briefs, revealing the most beautifully sculpted thighs I’ve ever seen. When I wrap my hand around his hardness, a strangled noise sounds from the base of his throat.
“Careful,” he groans. “You do that for too long, I’m gonna be quite the disappointment.”
“You could never.”
Even in my four-inch heels, I have to tiptoe up to kiss him. But then he grips his hands around my hips, hoisting me up to wrap my legs around his waist so I’m at eye level with him. For a minute we stand just like that while we kiss, our tongues teasing each other breathless, our kiss growing filthier and filthier by the second.
“Do you ever get tired of having to lean down to kiss me? Or carry me?”
“Never. I fucking love it.”
He smiles against my lips, and I catch a glimpse of that dimple in his right cheek. “Well, I really fucking love this too.” I gently tap it with my index finger.
“That’s convenient, since I’m a fan of your dimples.”
“I don’t have dimples.”
He taps my lower back. “You do here.”
He wags an eyebrow, and I giggle. When he drags his mouth along the side of my neck, I press my eyes shut and groan. “Lewis...”
The feel of his whiskers against the sensitive skin of my neck has me shuddering. I sink my teeth into the base of his neck. His growled and profane mutter spurs me on. I find his mouth once more and claw at his hair and shoulders.
“Bed. Now. Please,” I whine.
Before I even blink, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and I’m in his lap. I slide off to stand between his legs. When I move to tug off my dress, he stills me with a hand on my arm.
“Can I?”
Biting my lip, I nod. He starts with his fingers at the hem of my dress. I raise my arms up as he slowly peels the snug fabric over my head, leaving me in just a thong.
A muttered curse is his response as he takes in the sight of my body through a dazed stare.
“God, you’re so beautiful.” He circles his hands around my waist before pressing a kiss right above my belly button. The whisper-soft sensation combined with the reverence in his tone has me vibrating. It ignites something raw, something unholy in me.
I shove him to lie down on the bed, slide off my thong, then do what he requested. As I climb up to his face, his hazel eyes glow amber right around the irises. When I lower myself over his mouth and feel that first lap of his heavenly tongue, the amber ring thickens. Pleasure and pressure rocket through my clit, radiating all the way up my chest, squeezing my heart and lungs.
“Lewis.” I grip the headboard as my head lolls back. “Lewis...”
I chant his name as I lose myself in the sensations. When he hums against me, I gasp. The vibrations amp up the intensity of the pressure so much that I’m instantly light-headed.
I reach down and tug a hand through his hair. “Keep doing that. Please.”
He licks and hums until I can barely stay upright. My entire body trembles with the need for release. When I glance down at his face, he quirks up a brow. I can’t see his mouth, but I recognize the scrunch of his bearded cheeks as they crinkle upward. He’s grinning. Something about seeing him devour me so openly with such smugness kicks the naughtiness of this experience up a notch. That pulse between my legs throbs fiery hot, and my chest squeezes tight.
