Page 52 of Emergency Engagement
“Hard to believe we were ever the same size.” He palmed the back of her thigh and shifted her legs apart.
She turned her head and looked down her nose at him, but the little shiver she couldn’t suppress undermined the imperious expression. “I’ll have you know as a baby I was in the ninetieth percentile for length and weight. One of us happened to…normalize…over time.”
Since it was there, and presented such a tempting handful, he squeezed her butt. “You’re the normal one?”
“Perfectly.” She squirmed in his grasp.
“Trust me, Smith, there’s nothing normal about you.”
“Montgomery, you can kiss my ass.”
“Can I?” He hitched her skirt up to her waist, revealing the ass in question. “I like these.” He traced one edge of her little purple panties.
She sucked in a breath and craned her neck around to glare at him. “Are you trying to distract me?”
“I’m just following orders, ma’am.” He let his breath feather over one half-bare curve, and watched goose bumps appear on her skin. “Don’t mind me. Go on and look at your pictures.”
“Beau.”
He kissed the exposed portion of her cheek.
“Beau…”
He kissed the other.
“Bea…oh!” Her voice rose at least an octave when he kissed her next. Then he slid his tongue up the center of her panties. She squirmed so much he had to hold her hips with both hands just to retrace the route.
“Oh God. Not again.”
Hell yes. Again. Her loud, throaty cry was like a velvet glove stroking his balls, his shaft. He ached, but the simple thrill of toying with her, listening to her raw, uncensored reactions, compelled him to stay the course a little longer, go a little further.
“Not there. Don’t you dare…um…oh sweet mercy…okaaaay.”
For the next several minutes he coaxed a low, breathless, insanely cock-torturing serenade of pleas and threats out of her. When her words came in short, shallow pants of “No more…I can’t…No more,” and her panties were nothing but a wet, transparent second skin, he figured he’d gone as far as he could without risking her twisting around and kicking him in the groin. He worked an arm under her waist and flipped her around. The sudden move startled a strangely satisfying squeak out of her. While she caught her breath, he dragged her panties down, hitched her legs over his shoulders, and gripped her hips. “Wherewouldyou like my tongue?”
She wasted no time showing him. Heels dug into his back. Fingers tangled in his hair, twisting tighter every time he lashed her eager little clit.
Her scent filled his nose. Her taste coated his tongue. Frantic cries reached his ears. Nothing else existed. His senses disregarded everything except her.
And then she tensed—hips raised—and let out a long, heartfelt moan.
He had her skirt off and her sweater over her head before she stopped trembling. Her fingers scrambled over the buttons of his shirt, undoing as many as she could before he tugged her bra down her arms. Her hands leaped back to his shoulders as soon as her arms were free. He filled his hands with her breasts, teasing his thumbs across the tight pink tips, loving the way she leaned in and sought his touch.
By now he knew what she liked. He cupped their warm weight, lifted and squeezed, then froze when she stiffened and drew in a sharp breath.
Immediately, he relaxed his hold. “Too rough?”
“Sorry. I guess I’m a little sensitive right now.”
“I’m not sure how that earns me an apology. Seems like I’m the one with some making up to do.” He lowered his head and kissed one straining nipple. “Sorry,” he said against the stiff peak.
Her hands went slack on his shoulders. “You’re forgiven.”
He kissed the other, and she arched her back in a blatant attempt to encourage him to take her into his mouth. He waited until her fingernails dug into his skin before giving her what she wanted.
His lips closed around her breast, and her hands turned restless, pushing his shirt off his shoulders, and then abandoning the task, half done, in favor of undoing his fly. Seconds later she had his jeans open and his cock threaded through the flap of his briefs while his balls remained trapped behind unforgiving folds of denim. The not-altogether unappealing agony inspired him to take matters into his own hands.
“Hurry,” she urged when he rolled aside. He yanked his shirt off, lifted his hips, and shoved his jeans and underwear down.
