Stealing Rose
Page 78
I’m completely soaked—my body aches for his touch. This moment is so charged, everything feels that much more intense, and I know why.
Because this is the last night we’ll be together.
“Your skin is so soft,” he murmurs as he trails one finger along the inside of my thigh, stopping just as he reaches the spot between my legs. My thighs are quivering; my breath leaves me in shaky exhales. I’m so aroused I can hardly take it, and it all started with him rubbing my feet.
But really it all started when he rushed to my defense at the party in Cannes. When he kissed me by the pool and then ran away. I was hooked. I wanted more. I wanted my adventure, and I got it in the form of Caden.
“Your panties are wet,” he tells me, his deep voice drawing me from my thoughts as his fingers graze the front of my underwear. “You’re always so damn responsive, Ro.”
“It’s because you know just how to touch me.” I brace my hands on the edge of the mattress, my breath hitching in my throat when he slips those magical fingers beneath my panties and touches my pussy. My thighs fall open as much as they can, though they’re restricted by the skirt of my dress, and when he slips his long finger deep inside my body the moan that comes from my chest seems to rattle my bones.
“Lift up,” he demands tersely, his other hand shoving at my skirt. I lift my butt, reaching for the fabric so it bunches around my waist. My flimsy panties aren’t much of a barrier and he tears into them—literally rips the fragile lace, and then he bends forward, his mouth on my pussy, his tongue lashing against my clit.
His gaze directed on my face as he devours me.
“Oh, fuck.” The words are a whisper of sound. It almost looks vulgar, how we’re positioned. My legs are spread, the panties hanging in tatters, my skirt shoved almost to my breasts. Caden’s nestled between my thighs, his mouth working my pussy, his big hands gripping my knees, holding me wide for him. I lift my hips, another cry falling from my lips when he sinks his tongue inside me.
I throw my head back, my eyes sliding closed as I concentrate on the feel of his wet, wide tongue swirling around my sensitive flesh. He licks my clit, sucks it between his lips, his fingers digging into my skin as he braces my knees, and then his mouth is gone.
My eyes fly open and I stare at him. His expression is wild, his chin covered with my juices, his lips glistening as well. He’s still fully clothed and I want him naked. I want to come. I want his mouth back on my pussy. I want it all.
“I want to watch you come,” he tells me, his voice low and deep and making me wetter. “It’s my favorite thing. Are you close, Ro?”
I nod and lift up so I’m almost but not quite sitting. “So close,” I murmur.
His gaze flares with heat. “I want you to touch yourself.”
I frown. “What?”
He smiles and darts out his tongue, flicking my clit with just the tip. “Rub your clit. Show me how you like it. And then I’ll join in. The two of us can make you come hard. I know it.”
Oh, God. He’s probably right. But I’ve never touched myself in front of another man before. I’ve never felt comfortable doing that sort of thing because it feels so intimate. Private.
“Do it,” he urges with a nod of his head. “Touch yourself.”
My hand slides down my belly, tangles in my pubic hair, and then I’m touching my pussy. I reach with my index finger, pressing it against my clit, and I hiss in pleasure.
“That’s it, baby. Keep touching your clit,” he encourages just as he settles his mouth on my pussy once more. His tongue flicks against my finger and I press my lips together to keep the moan contained.
There’s something to be said for containment, for prolonging the pleasure. He knows what I’m doing and he smiles against my pussy and continues to lick it. My pace increases as I circle my clit again and again, my hips working, his tongue flicking against my flexing entrance before thrusting inside. I start to rub in earnest when I feel my orgasm barrel down on me, coming at me faster and faster until it breaks me apart and I gasp out a hoarse, “I’m coming,” as a warning.
The shudders wrack my body with such intensity I buck against his face, my hand falling away from my clit as I collapse backward on the bed, my eyes tightly closed as my body shakes. He lifts up and away from me, I hear him hurriedly shedding his clothes, and then he’s looming over me, crawling onto the mattress, crawling onto me.
“Ro.” His voice is a heated whisper caressing my flesh and I open my eyes to find him watching me with his dark gaze. Bending over, he takes my mouth, the taste of me clinging to his lips and tongue. I kiss him back without restraint, my hands sliding over his naked skin, and when he breaks the kiss I growl with frustration. “Let’s get this dress off of you,” he murmurs as he lifts himself off me.
Somehow, working together, we get me naked. We’re both on our knees facing each other, his hard cock brushing against my belly, our hands in each other’s hair as we kiss. I scoot closer to him, my hands sliding all over his smooth skin, across his chest, his pecs, down along his stomach. I curl my fingers around the base of his cock and stroke him, smiling against his lips when I feel him shudder in reaction to my touch.
“You keep doing that and I’ll come all over your hand,” he mutters like a threat.
It’s a threat that thrills me, though. I increase my pace, making him curse, and then he’s grabbing me by the shoulders and tossing me onto the bed, my head hitting the pillows just as he positions himself over me. I spread my legs to accommodate his body between them and then he’s buried deep inside me, to the hilt, his balls brushing my pussy as he holds himself there for long, delicious seconds.
Because this is the last night we’ll be together.
“Your skin is so soft,” he murmurs as he trails one finger along the inside of my thigh, stopping just as he reaches the spot between my legs. My thighs are quivering; my breath leaves me in shaky exhales. I’m so aroused I can hardly take it, and it all started with him rubbing my feet.
But really it all started when he rushed to my defense at the party in Cannes. When he kissed me by the pool and then ran away. I was hooked. I wanted more. I wanted my adventure, and I got it in the form of Caden.
“Your panties are wet,” he tells me, his deep voice drawing me from my thoughts as his fingers graze the front of my underwear. “You’re always so damn responsive, Ro.”
“It’s because you know just how to touch me.” I brace my hands on the edge of the mattress, my breath hitching in my throat when he slips those magical fingers beneath my panties and touches my pussy. My thighs fall open as much as they can, though they’re restricted by the skirt of my dress, and when he slips his long finger deep inside my body the moan that comes from my chest seems to rattle my bones.
“Lift up,” he demands tersely, his other hand shoving at my skirt. I lift my butt, reaching for the fabric so it bunches around my waist. My flimsy panties aren’t much of a barrier and he tears into them—literally rips the fragile lace, and then he bends forward, his mouth on my pussy, his tongue lashing against my clit.
His gaze directed on my face as he devours me.
“Oh, fuck.” The words are a whisper of sound. It almost looks vulgar, how we’re positioned. My legs are spread, the panties hanging in tatters, my skirt shoved almost to my breasts. Caden’s nestled between my thighs, his mouth working my pussy, his big hands gripping my knees, holding me wide for him. I lift my hips, another cry falling from my lips when he sinks his tongue inside me.
I throw my head back, my eyes sliding closed as I concentrate on the feel of his wet, wide tongue swirling around my sensitive flesh. He licks my clit, sucks it between his lips, his fingers digging into my skin as he braces my knees, and then his mouth is gone.
My eyes fly open and I stare at him. His expression is wild, his chin covered with my juices, his lips glistening as well. He’s still fully clothed and I want him naked. I want to come. I want his mouth back on my pussy. I want it all.
“I want to watch you come,” he tells me, his voice low and deep and making me wetter. “It’s my favorite thing. Are you close, Ro?”
I nod and lift up so I’m almost but not quite sitting. “So close,” I murmur.
His gaze flares with heat. “I want you to touch yourself.”
I frown. “What?”
He smiles and darts out his tongue, flicking my clit with just the tip. “Rub your clit. Show me how you like it. And then I’ll join in. The two of us can make you come hard. I know it.”
Oh, God. He’s probably right. But I’ve never touched myself in front of another man before. I’ve never felt comfortable doing that sort of thing because it feels so intimate. Private.
“Do it,” he urges with a nod of his head. “Touch yourself.”
My hand slides down my belly, tangles in my pubic hair, and then I’m touching my pussy. I reach with my index finger, pressing it against my clit, and I hiss in pleasure.
“That’s it, baby. Keep touching your clit,” he encourages just as he settles his mouth on my pussy once more. His tongue flicks against my finger and I press my lips together to keep the moan contained.
There’s something to be said for containment, for prolonging the pleasure. He knows what I’m doing and he smiles against my pussy and continues to lick it. My pace increases as I circle my clit again and again, my hips working, his tongue flicking against my flexing entrance before thrusting inside. I start to rub in earnest when I feel my orgasm barrel down on me, coming at me faster and faster until it breaks me apart and I gasp out a hoarse, “I’m coming,” as a warning.
The shudders wrack my body with such intensity I buck against his face, my hand falling away from my clit as I collapse backward on the bed, my eyes tightly closed as my body shakes. He lifts up and away from me, I hear him hurriedly shedding his clothes, and then he’s looming over me, crawling onto the mattress, crawling onto me.
“Ro.” His voice is a heated whisper caressing my flesh and I open my eyes to find him watching me with his dark gaze. Bending over, he takes my mouth, the taste of me clinging to his lips and tongue. I kiss him back without restraint, my hands sliding over his naked skin, and when he breaks the kiss I growl with frustration. “Let’s get this dress off of you,” he murmurs as he lifts himself off me.
Somehow, working together, we get me naked. We’re both on our knees facing each other, his hard cock brushing against my belly, our hands in each other’s hair as we kiss. I scoot closer to him, my hands sliding all over his smooth skin, across his chest, his pecs, down along his stomach. I curl my fingers around the base of his cock and stroke him, smiling against his lips when I feel him shudder in reaction to my touch.
“You keep doing that and I’ll come all over your hand,” he mutters like a threat.
It’s a threat that thrills me, though. I increase my pace, making him curse, and then he’s grabbing me by the shoulders and tossing me onto the bed, my head hitting the pillows just as he positions himself over me. I spread my legs to accommodate his body between them and then he’s buried deep inside me, to the hilt, his balls brushing my pussy as he holds himself there for long, delicious seconds.
