Page 3 of All or Notching
“Laurel. Stop.” He gently pushes me away.
I pout.
He laughs. I love the sound of his laughter. It’s deep and sexy, a little rumbly like the motor of a muscle car.
“Sweetheart, if you really want this, we’ve got all night. But I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret in the morning.”
“I won’t.”
“You’ve had a few drinks.
“Yes, but I’m not drunk.” Tipsy for sure, but not drunk. Relaxed enough to take the edge off and clear away any pesky reminders that I should have gone to his place. Cognizant of that gentle, sweet goodnight-thanks-for-a-great-evening kiss on the lips turning hungry, devouring, and something I suddenly needed much more of.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
He lowers his head and captures my mouth for a slow, sultry kiss before pulling back to look me in the eyes. “Then I’m not about to say no to a beautiful woman.”
From there, we pick up where we left off, and what feels like only moments later, I’ve somehow dragged him up the stairs to my bedroom, our clothing discarded into messy piles on the floor, and we’re sprawled across the floral comforter on my bed. The only light in the room is the moonlight spilling in through the open curtains at the window. But it’s enough. It’s romantic.
“You are so perfect.” He wraps his lips around one of my nipples.
Oh, Lord, that feels divine. Arching my back, pushing my breast into his mouth, I tunnel my fingers into his hair and hold him close. My head falls back as a moan is pulled from deep in my throat.
He switches to the other, washing it with his rough tongue before tugging it, elongating it.
“More. Tristan, I want more.”
His mouth moves against my skin, stretching into a wide smile. He travels down my body, pressing his lips to various spots until he’s cradled between my hips. Tossing my legs over his shoulders, he makes himself comfortable.
That first swipe of his tongue through my slit is—oh wow—and then he’s attacking my clit. So good. So freaking good. I’m already rushing toward an orgasm. It’s happening too fast. I want it to slow down. I don’t want this to end that quick.
Working to relax my body doesn’t help. He uses his tongue like he’s making love to my vagina. And then he’s back on my clit, sucking on it, teasing it. The building pressure is driving me wild.
“Oh, God, Tristan. That feels so—“
“Come in my mouth, baby. I want to taste everything you’ve got for me.” He grips my thighs in his strong fingers and buries his face between my legs, growling like an animal protecting its meal.
My orgasm rushes through me, the intensity of it startling me. I gasp and fling my arms out, grabbing my bedding to ground myself. A cry escapes. I tilt my pelvis, pleading to somebody up there to make it last if heavenly possible. When I can’t take the torture of his talented mouth on my sensitive flesh any longer, I finally collapse.
He rises and crawls over me. “Feel good?”
My eyes are closed, so I can’t see the smug expression I can hear in his words, but I feel a silly grin emerging. “Oh yeah.” If I were a feline, I’d purr in contentment.
He chuckles and kisses me. “Do you want me to go?” he whispers.
I shake my head.
He leaves me, and I panic, but I’m scared to open my eyes and see where he disappeared to. Then I hear foil ripping, and the mattress dips with his weight. Now I do lift my eyelids to see him staring down at me. Without the lights, I can’t see his face clearly in the darkness of my bedroom. A brief touch of sadness washes over me. This entire night has been far out of my comfort zone, yet I’m not feeling uncomfortable. We’ve been like horny teenagers satisfying our hormonal urges. Usually, I prefer sex with the lights on because I want to watch everything. I often coach the man I’m with and tell him where and how to touch me. Guide him to my more sensitive spots.
Tristan seems to know everything I need.
He positions himself between my spread legs and holds there for a moment. I suspect he’s giving me one more opportunity to stop this from going further. I wrap my legs around his hips and, using my heels, urge him to enter me.
He does so slowly, his cock opening me wide as he pushes deeper inside, inch by glorious inch. Oh, sweet Jesus, he’s no average man.
“Honey, you are tight.”