Tipping my head to the side, I give her long, chaste kisses, just holding my lips to hers for four or five seconds each time. Then, gradually, I let my tongue join in the fun.
Teasing. Probing. Exploring her lips, tracing the tip of my tongue across them before gently delving into her mouth. Sliding it against hers in a movement that reminds me of ice skaters circling each other, elegant and sensual, always touching.
I make sure to keep my hands to myself for a while, although she seems to be enjoying exploring my body while we kiss. I’m not complaining. Her fingers on my skin give me goose bumps all over. She slides her hands around my ribs to my back, runs her fingers up my spine, and skates them across myshoulder blades. She finds each muscle and follows them with her fingers, squeezes my shoulders, then returns to my chest, where she circles the pads of her fingers over my nipples. I twitch, and her lips widen in a smile beneath mine.
I brush my lips over hers. “Doesn’t seem entirely fair,” I murmur, moving my hands underneath her tee for the first time. I brush my fingers from her stomach around her ribs, and she inhales and moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue.
So I start investigating the soft curves of her body while we continue to kiss. I stroke her waist and ribs, trail my fingers up her spine, and then follow the strap of her bra around to the front. I bring a finger up between her breasts, trace the neckline of her tee from one shoulder to the other, and enjoy the smooth skin of her neck.
Eventually, though, her breasts prove too much of an attraction, and I stroke from one side over the swell of each breast to the other, enjoying the way she murmurs against my lips, squirming beneath my tongue.
I return my hand beneath her tee and around her back, find the catch of her bra, and flick it open.
“Oh!” She laughs. “That was smooth.” She slides the straps of the bra down her arms and removes it without taking off her tee.
I smile, deepening my kiss a little as my body stirs at the thought of her breasts being set free, and stroke around to her front, bringing up my hand to cup one. They’re high and pert and full and soft, and sit in my hand like heavy fruit, ripe and ready for picking, making my mouth water. Her nipple is swollen and soft, but as I tease it with my thumb, then pluck it gently, she arches her back, and the nipple tightens to a tight bud.
“Fuck.” Suddenly remembering there’s an eight-year-old in the house, I look over my shoulder toward her bedroom. “Maybe we should stop there…”
“She sleeps very soundly,” Chessie says. “I told her to call out if she wakes, but she won’t.”
She rises then and moves over me, straddling my hips and settling on my thighs. Then she cups my face in her hands and bends to kiss me again. Her hair falls around me like a copper curtain, and the silky slide of it across my skin makes my goosebumps get goosebumps.
I slip my hands up her tee onto her breasts and tease her nipples for a while. Then, unable to fight the urge anymore, I push up her tee and tear my lips from hers. The skin of her breasts and stomach, less touched by the sun, is creamy white with a lighter scattering of freckles. Her nipples are such a light pinky-brown that they’re almost the same color as her breasts. Groaning, I lower my head to a nipple, close my mouth over it, and suck. Her hands tighten in my hair, and she arches her back and gives such a sexy moan that it fires both of us up.
By now, I’m so hard that my cock is threatening to break through the stitching on my shorts. Placing my hands on her butt, I pull her toward me, pressing my erection against her soft mound. She exhales, her breath whispering across my lips, and rocks her hips, arousing herself on me. Fuck, that’s hot, and it only serves to make me harder.
Suddenly, it’s not enough. I want to taste her.
Part of me is conscious that despite Chessie’s protests to the contrary, Thea could wake and come in to find us. In my bedroom, we’ll be slightly closer so we’ll be able to hear her if she calls out, but I can close the door, so we’ll have more warning if she does come looking for us. I know parents have sex while kids are in the house all the time, but she’s not our child, and we have to show some responsibility.
So I tighten my arms around Chessie and get to my feet, and she squeals and wraps her legs around my waist. I turn off the TV, pick up her bra, then carry her out of the living room,along the hallway, and down to my bedroom. I close the door behind us, take her over to the bed, and lower her onto her back on it.
Next, I unbutton her cut-down jeans, unzip them, and pull them down her legs. Ahhh, fuck, the sight of all that pale, freckly skin makes my heart pound, as does the black G-string she’s wearing. Without removing it, I part her legs, drop to my knees, and tug her toward me. I run my hands from her knees up her thighs, then slip a finger beneath the elastic of the triangle of her thong and slide my finger down to the thin line that disappears beneath her.
I look up at her; she’s on her elbows, watching me, her eyes wide, her lips parted, and as I move the G-string to the side and drop my gaze to feast my eyes on her, she says, “Ohhh…”
I lean forward and press my lips to the beautiful tiny triangle of curly red hair on her mound, then kiss down the soft skin on either side. Pressing a hand on either side of her, I gently part her and groan at the sight of the swollen skin glistening with her moisture. Lowering my head, I slide my tongue into her, then lick all the way up to her clit.
She gives a soft cry, then a long sigh that turns into a moan as I swirl my tongue over her clit, teasing and sucking.
Mmm… the taste of a woman, sweet and salty and creamy and perfect. Fuck, she’s amazing, and I lose myself in the moment, bringing up my hand to join in the fun. Two fingers inside her, stroking up, my tongue flicking, lips sucking, relentless and insistent, especially when she slides her hand into my hair to pull my head closer. I move my other hand up to her breast and play with her nipple through the T-shirt, flicking and tugging it, knowing by her answering moan that she’s enjoying the sensation.
I take my time to arouse her. I have all night, I’m in no rush, and I love giving oral. It’s not about a race to the finish line.Sex should be a marathon, not a sprint, with plenty of time to look at the view on the way. So I explore her body, discovering all her freckles and kissing them, enjoying the smoothness of her skin, finding out at what pressure and speed she likes to be touched, which turns out to be slow and steady at first, although she also likes flicks of my tongue.
She’s close, I can tell by her ragged breathing, the way she’s tipped her head back, how she’s rocking her hips to meet each thrust of my tongue. My hand is covered in her moisture, and so is my face; I’m probably giving her bristle burn on her thighs, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it. I want to make her come. I want to wipe her ex from her brain. I want to know I’m the one who made her feel good… and that she’s thinking of me and only me.
I slow my tongue and fingers a little… lift my head and blow lightly on her sensitive skin… coax the pleasure from her. She grabs a pillow, drags it over her face, and groans into it, holding it there with one arm, while the other hand clenches in my hair. She says something, I don’t know what because it’s muffled by the pillow, but I ignore it and continue to tease, licking until she tenses, pausing for a few seconds until it releases the tension and she flops back, then doing it again, and again, until she’s groaning and gasping and her fingers are tight in my hair and her whole body feels as if it’s like a tightly coiled spring…
And then I relent, slide my fingers inside her, and cover her clit with my mouth and suck. She gasps, and I feel her tighten around my fingers slowly as the pleasure rolls over her, while she tries to stifle her moans with the pillow. Ahhh it’s amazing… powerful pulses rack her body, and she cries into the pillow and shudders with each clench.
I’ve been rock hard for ages, and I can’t wait to slide inside her, but the anticipation is delicious. It makes me feel fantasticto think I’ve done this for her. As if I’ve uncovered a wealth of treasure that gleams gold in the lamplight.
And now I’m turning into a poet. This girl has gotten right under my skin. I don’t stand a hope in hell.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chessie