Page 86 of Hopeless Romantic
Who was she to argue? Especially when a sexy and shirtless Levi had his magnificent torso on display. When she leaned back on her elbows, he took a seat on the barstool, as if getting comfortable for the duration. His palms slid down her bare thighs, gripping her from underneath and tugging her so she was teetering on the edge of the counter.
The lower he went, the closer his shoulders moved, and the farther apart her leg moved to accommodate him. And accommodate him, she did. All the way down to where her skin met lace, and the sheer anticipation of the next stop on his journey had her back arching off the counter. Only instead of kissing her where she wanted—no, where she needed it—he skipped over her hottest button to nuzzle her inner thigh.
“To the left a little,” she groaned.
“Here?” he asked, kissing up the seam of her panties.
“That was right. Left.” She shifted her hips to the side, trying to be helpful as he licked her inner thigh. “Higher.”
“Is that you relaxing?”
“Yes.” She bit back a smile. “I’m completely relaxed. Scout’s honor.”
She held up her best Scouts sign, and Levi sucked her fingers into his mouth and slowly released them. “Good. I’d hate to have to make a new rule.”
He lowered his head, then paused to give her a pointed look. She laughed, and he picked up where he’d left off. Slowly kissing her insane, his hands and mouth lavishing every inch of her skin, raising the tension until she was certain she’d shatter, then slowly backing off.
“Levi,” she groaned. “I need to come.”
“And I need you to relax.”
“But only if you get to the good parts.”
He went back to teasing and licking, and just when she thought he’d back off again, he said, “Beck, you might want to keep your cape on for this.” And licked her straight up the center.
“That was a good part,” she moaned.
And that’s when the good became amazing, and when his finger got involved, it became a religious experience. He tugged her thong to the side and dipped his tongue in the holy water, and sweet baby Jesus, she pushed into him and groaned out his name.
He seemed to like the sound of it, because he dipped again, and again, not giving up until her thighs burned from clenching so hard.
“Almost,” she moaned, trying to press herself against his tongue. “Just a little more.”
“Be careful, I’d hate for you to get all tense. I’d have to start all over again.”
Her eyes snapped open, desperate. “I can’t start over. I can barely handle continuing.”
“Then relax,” he said against her inner thigh. “Or I’ll invoke rule three.” This was whispered against the topmost inner curve of her leg.
“Rule three?” she asked.
“Oh yeah. If I lick it, then it’s mine.” The last word vibrated through her core, as he claimed her with a lick that had her sex-shocks bouncing in anticipation of what had to be the world’s most overdue man-given orgasm. But he didn’t stop there. Levi showed her exactly how talented of a multitasker he was, and just how much she’d been missing in life.
The man was a sex god, taking his time as if every move, every kiss, every lick was an event unto itself. He approached foreplay the same way he approached sailing—he was methodical, disciplined, holding back, making sure that when he crossed that finish line, it was to fanfare and explosive applause.
He wanted people cheering his name, and she desperately wanted to cross that line. She could see it, building in front of her. All Levi had to do was give one well-placed flick, and fireworks would explode skyward. Only he was teasing her, dancing around the sacred spot for what had to be hours, it seemed.
“Levi, please.”
“Since you asked nicely,” he said, and before she could strangle him, he launched a full-fledged attack on her body. There was nothing nice or polite about the way he was touching, kissing, pampering her until they found the kind of rhythm with each other it took people years to fall into.
“More,” she said, even as her head thrashed.
“You’re there, you just have to let go.” He pulled her panties aside, and his tongue did a little one-two action, right up the center, lingering until the pleasure built and she felt everything inside tighten to the point of snapping. But no matter how far she stretched, it was always just out of reach.
“I can’t.”
“Beck,” he soothed. “Remember that edge I told you about. You’re there, but you don’t have to be there alone. If you let me, I’ll catch you when you fall. But you have to choose to let me, that’s how this works.”
