Page 43 of Waiting For Ever
He’s nervous.
I was counting on him to show me the way, but somehow recognizing his nerves gives me confidence, like I couldn’t fuck this up if I tried. I take another a sip of my champagne and set it down on the desk next to the slider. I keep my eyes on his as he stretches to set his glass beside mine.
I curl my fingers into the soft cotton covering his chest and pull the wad of gray fabric toward me. When his lips meet mine, I open mine and deepen the kiss. I let go of the clenched-up fabric and slide my hands down to the hem of his shirt and push it up his torso, feeling every defined ab muscle as I go.
His body is a specimen.
Once I push it up to his chest, he reaches above and behind him, pulls it over his head with one hand and drops it to the floor. He reaches down and does the same thing to my top. I lift my arms over my head as he pulls it up and off, dropping it next to his on the floor. Even with my sports bra tight across my breasts, I can feel my nipples straining against the material. His free hand grazes across one nipple, sliding down my body, and hooks inside my leggings. The other hand joins it, and they slide the leggings over my hips and down my legs. Once they’re halfway down, I use my feet to push them the rest of the way and step out of them.
I mirror him and push my hands into the waistband of his joggers and begin sliding them down. He steps out of them easily when they puddle at his feet.
Standing in front of each other, me in a sports bra and thong, him in boxer briefs, I back up toward the bed. He follows me, clasping our hands together down at our sides, locking our fingers. When the backsof my knees meet the edge of the mattress, I sit and edge backward until I can lie back.
Julian doesn’t release my hands. Instead, he pins my forearms down above my head with his, our hands still locked and settles himself on top of me. He partially supports his weight with his legs, so he doesn’t crush me.
I think I want him to crush me. I know I want more. I want his full weight on me. To feel his hard body pressing into my softness. When I squirm a little to try to free my hands, which I plan to use to pull him to me, he gives me what I want.
He doesn’t let my arms go, but he presses into me, sending a rush of moisture between my legs.
“Mmm, Julie.” I lift my hips, begging for what I want with my body.
“I know, Ever. Me too.” This he whispers in my ear, his breath heavy and hot. He kisses the tender spot behind my ear and places tiny kisses down my neck, sucking slightly on my pulse. He pulls the strap of my bra off my shoulder and kisses the skin it reveals. He keeps pulling it down until the fabric gives and uncloaks one breast. His hand goes to the side of my breast, softly clenching as his lips settle around the jut of my nipple while his tongue draws lazy circles, teasing the peak.
My back arches off the bed, seeking more.
His other hand follows suit, dragging the constricting fabric off my other breast and lightly squeezing as his mouth finds and gives equal time to that nipple.
My hands that were clenching the pillowy comforter fly to curl around his neck and pull his head down harder. The fade of hair on his nape, the texture, has me scraping my nails back and forth, almostscratching his skin there. He moans a little and rolls his neck like he likes it. I rub my hand up the back of his head, loving the soft spikiness of it, and press him tight to my chest.
His teeth nip at the sensitive bud, and I gasp. While one hand holds him down tight to my chest, the other flies back to the comforter, clenching it in my fist. With a low chuckle, he releases it with a pop and trails kisses down my stomach, dragging the bra with him as he goes.
I lift my hips as he shimmies it over them and down my legs, where I pull each leg free one by one. I didn’t know my bra would come off over my hips and ass. Where there is a will, I guess. The thought extracts a giggle that quickly turns to a moan when his lips find my center through my thong.
His lips tighten around my hardened bud as his fingers pull my thong to the side. He slides into the slick wetness effortlessly.
My hips rise to meet the welcome invasion.
“So wet, so soft.”
I barely hear him as his mouth continues to put pressure on my most sensitive spot. My hand moves from the back of his neck to his wrist, urging his hand to give me more. A second finger joins the first one, and I cry out.
His hand freezes, his fingers still inside me. His mouth stops. He eases his fingers out of me and reaches his other hand up to stretch himself out beside me. He nuzzles my neck and places soft kisses near my ear.
My chest heaves with intensity. I roll somewhat to face him, resting my hand on his chest. I feel his heart racing in time with mine and peer up into his eyes under my lashes. “Why’d you stop?”
“I just . . . want to be careful with you.” He heaves in a breath, telling me the restraint costs him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Mmm,” I moan. “I could argue that you . . . stopping . . . hurts.”
His half smile shows in the moonlight and comes with that deep chuckle I love so much. It sends another flood of moisture rushing between my legs, and I squirm slightly. He brings his hand up to my face and traces one finger down my cheek. The finger he just used on me. The finger that was just inside me?
I take his hand and lead it down my body to the vee of my legs and push his palm into my heat. “Don’t make me beg, Julie.”
“I think I’d probably like that.”
“Yeah? Like this? Please, Julie.” I lower my lashes, wanting to turn him on the way he turns me on, but I’m not sure I can pull it off without melting into a puddle of embarrassment. His hard-on twitches against my leg, and it empowers me. I say more as he draws circles around my sensitive bud through the satin lace of my thong. “I want you. So much. Please.”
“Please what, Ever? Tell me. What do you want?”
