Page 48 of Love Lessons
But then Ian says, “Oh fuck yes.” His voice is full of admiration. His hands land on my bare skin—one on my shoulder and one at the curve of my hip.
His touch is so much different than Danforth’s. As his fingertips slide down my thigh, they’re confident, with a side of possessiveness.
I like it. Andsomebodyshould have some confidence around here.
“Touch me,” he whispers. “You know you want to.”
He’s right. I do. The moment I reach up to run my fingertips through the trimmed hair of his chest, I forget all my fears. Ian’s body isverydistracting. It’s like something from a fitness influencer’s Instagram photos. The skin is soft, but the bumps of his abs are firm under my fingertips.
Wow. And those pecs. I guess I’m a chest girl. And I have a thing for the stripe of hair running down his belly. So rugged. I want to touch him everywhere. I lean down and kiss his collarbone, because a girl has to start somewhere.
“Yes, angel,” he whispers. “So nice.”
The praise lights me up. As I kiss his neck, I let my hands wander over his body.
His hands wander, too, but there’s more skill in it. He traces a thick fingertip across the swells of my breasts, just above the cups of my camisole. Then he does the same thing at my panty line. I give a full body shiver as that naughty finger dips so near my pleasure center.
“You like that, don’tcha?” I feel his smile more than I see it.
Everything is going so well that I feel emboldened. I slip a hand down those incredible abs, until I find his belt. I unhook that and then go for his trousers.
Ian is on board with this plan. He helps by kicking off the khakis. Then, while we’re at it, he tugs down his black briefs and tosses them overboard, too.
“Wow.” I swallow roughly as a generous, rosy erection juts proudly into view. Granted, it’s been three years since I’ve seen one of these in person, but Ian seems longer than what I’m used to and maybe hastwicethe girth.
You’re in over your head now, aren’t you?my inner critic cackles.
You shut up,I tell her privately.
He takes my hand and laces it right on his shaft.
“Mmm,” I breathe as I curl my palm around its rigid heat. He drops urgent, wet kisses onto my neck, and I sink against his body, diving into the warmth, homing in on his mouth with my own.
We meet in another deep kiss, and I tease my thumb over the smooth head of him. He’s uncut, which I’m unused to. But he gasps happily when I slowly jerk his shaft with soft fingers.
“Lose the rest of your clothes, baby,” he says. “The lace is scratchy, and the top is hiding your pretty tits from me.”
“Oh!” I sit up quickly, remembering in a rush that he is sensitive to certain synthetics. There’s some redness on his hip where my lace panties must have scraped against him. “God, sorry.” I reach down and pull them off before flinging them away, like you might do with a venomous snake.
His smile reappears. “First time I was ever happy about that allergy.” His eyes go lazy as he looks down at my body. “You are fucking spectacular, you know that?”
No, I really do not. “The camisole stays on, though. It’s not lace.” It’s a super-soft microfiber. I wear these a lot.
His eyebrows lift in a question, but he doesn’t argue. He palms my breast and tugs the camisole’s cup downward by an inch or two until my nipple pops into view. “All right. I’ll work around it.” He leans in and sucks my nipple into his mouth. His tongue is firm as he laves it into an achy point.
I let out an uncharacteristic moan that makes him lift hungry blue eyes to mine. “My contessa likes that?” He switches sides, and when the other nipple hardens, I feel an actual rush of wetness between my legs.
Wow. This man has skills.
“Aw, hell,” he says. “That sound you just made.”
“What sound?” I gasp. “A good sound?”
“Fanfuckingtastic sound,” he murmurs against my breast. One of his clever hands reaches down and pulls my body against his.
And then we’re mostly naked and kissing like it’s our last day on Earth. His tongue is in my mouth and his hands are sliding over my ass. He rolls on top of me, and I love it. The weight of him is so sexy, and the kisses keep coming.
He reaches down with one bossy hand and parts my legs in a businesslike way. And I clench the muscles of my core in a needy fashion. Like I’m ready for him there. Like I’m empty, and he can fill me up with all the things I’m lacking.
