Page 110 of Fostering Chemistry
“You’re so soft,” he murmured against my lips before kissing me again, deeper this time.
I ran my hands over his shoulders, marveling at the firm muscle beneath smooth skin. He felt so solid, so real under my touch. When his hand inched higher beneath my top, my breath caught.
“Still okay?” he asked, his voice husky and strained.
I nodded, then realized he might not see clearly in the dim light. “Very much so,” I whispered.
He cupped my breast, and I gasped softly at the sensation. It felt entirely different now that it was his bare skin against mine. When his thumb brushed across my nipple, I couldn’t help the small moan that escaped me. He smiled against my lips, then rolled my sensitive nipple between his fingers. Pleasure spiraled through me, making me press closer to him.
“You’re beautiful, Mia,” he said, his mouth moving to my neck, placing gentle kisses along my throat.
I explored his chest with tentative touches, tracing the contours of his pectorals, the ridges of his abs. His skin was hot beneath my fingertips, and I could feel his muscles tense and relax with each breath.
“That soft touch… it feels so damn good,” he whispered, his hand moving to my other breast, giving it the same attention.
Almost instinctively, I hooked my leg over his, drawing him closer. The thin fabric of my shorts and his pajama pants didlittle to hide how much he wanted me. His erection pressed against my thigh, making my heart race faster.
His hand slid down my stomach, fingers playing at the waistband of my shorts. “May I?” he asked, his eyes holding mine.
I nodded and found my voice. “Yes.”
His fingers dipped beneath the elastic, moving slowly, giving me time to change my mind. But I didn’t want him to stop. When his fingertips brushed against my slit, I gasped, my hips jerking slightly at the contact.
I hiked my leg higher up on his, giving him better access. He traced the length of my seam as I moaned.
“God, your skin is radiating heat.”
Before I could respond to that, his fingertip slid into my folds, gliding easily. “Hot and wet. You’re going to be the death of me, Mia,” he groaned.
My hips rolled in response to his touch, and I pushed against his hand, wanting more.
“Is this what you want?” He asked softly, circling my clit with gentle pressure.
“God, yes,” I whispered, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
He continued working my clit, alternating between soft circles and firmer strokes. When he slipped a finger inside me, I moaned, burying my face against his neck.
“You’re so damn tight,” he murmured. “So damn perfect.”
He slid a second finger in, pushing them in a little more each time as the sounds of my ragged breathing filled the room. The dual sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building rapidly within me. A shuddering moan escaped my lips, my hips moving against his hand.
“That’s it,” he encouraged softly. “Let go for me, Mia.”
He knew just how to make that happen, rubbing my clit faster, fingers circling before pushing in again. The tension coiled tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. I cried out, my body shuddering against him as waves of pleasure washed over me. He held me through it, his body absorbing my thrashing movements. I cried out, my head against his shoulder, unable to catch my breath as I writhed around on the bed. His fingers finally slowed when I was completely spent.
Aaron cradled me to him, stroking my hair and whispering soothing things that I could barely hear over my harsh breaths. But when my chest finally stopped heaving and my hips stopped bucking from aftershocks, he still held me.
Now that I was able to breathe—and think—again, I became aware that his erection was still pressed against me.
I shifted my leg, and I felt its hard heat through his soft pajama pants. Feeling suddenly bold, I slid my hand down his chest, over his stomach, until I reached the waistband of his pajama pants. “Can I... touch you?” I asked, my voice small but determined.
His breath hitched. “Only if you want to.”
“I do,” I said. It was true—but I had to find the courage to do so. I wasn’t very confident about my skills in this area. Or any area when it came to men.
Slowly, I slid my hand beneath the stretchy fabric. When I encountered the hard flesh of his cock, we both froze. Then, tentatively, I wrapped my fingers around it. He was hard and hot in my hand, and bigger than I was expecting. The skin surprisingly soft, but there was steel underneath it.
“Am I doing this right?” I asked, giving him an experimental stroke.
