Page 71 of Crave Me
“But if I help you out of your coat, will you help me out of mine?” I offer.
He watches me as I slip the heavy fabric over his shoulders and down his arms. He knows I’m up to something, but doesn’t quite know what that something is. He unfastens my top button, allowing the thick material to pull away and expose the swells of my breasts as his lips seal over mine. It’s not until his hand slips inside and my bare flesh meets his palm that he breaks our kiss.
His gaze smokes as he pops the last two buttons free and parts the sides. “Fuck. Me,” he rasps, hauling me to him.
He frees me from the warm wool, greeting me with a searing kiss. My fingers work fast to tug off his jacket. I’m almost down to the last few buttons of his shirt when his fingers slip between my thighs. I clamp down, moaning when he goes deep.
Evan’s mouth attacks my throat. “I need to be inside you,” he grunts, his motions fast and demanding. “Every way I can.”
I clutch his head, gasping when his tongue laves my nipple and biting back a curse when his teeth graze the pebbled point. His mouth feels good, so good. But it doesn’t compare to the delicious pain below when his fingers curl and his palm bats against my tender flesh.
He bands his arm around my waist, easing me back toward the table. I unravel with the first orgasm that hits, barely keeping my feet. Evan holds tight, moving fast and propping me on the edge of the table. I’m no longer whimpering, I’m thrashing wildly, ecstasy blinding me to everything but him.
My reaction isn’t enough for Evan. He falls to his knees, his mouth disappearing between my legs.
The heel of my boot slams into a chair as he parts my thighs, sucking hard. I push up elbows to watch, my breasts bouncing with how fast I’m breathing and my fingers digging through his hair to hold him in place. The hunger in his dark gaze that assures me he won’t let go, and I’m already begging for more.
My pelvis tilts to meet his mouth as he ravishes me. The first orgasm doesn’t quite leave before another builds, tightening my core in agonizing bliss. It’s almost too much, but I don’t fight it, allowing his ardor to consume me and take me to the edge.
My legs kick out as I fall back. Evan holds tight, his deep, lustful moans, vibrating against my pounding flesh and surging my pleasure. My vision swims with tears built from primal lust. I can’t keep balanced. But when he stands, I force myself up, pulling off his belt with shaking hands, the trembles from my receding orgasm making me clumsy.
He rips off his shirt, not bothering to unfasten the last few buttons. They bounce off the floor as I reach for his zipper.
The thickness of his erection strains against the fabric and the glistening tip pokes through the waistband of his black boxer briefs. I lift my chin, my carnal stare meeting his.
Evan’s breaths are ragged with desire. He’s crazed for my body, and how it will soon join with his. I can see it, and feel it in his hardness when I reach in. But there’s something more I need to do.
His breath releases in a pained hiss when I grip him. I don’t tell him what I want, allowing my actions to speak for me. I pass my hand from the base to the tip, relishing the soft skin covering his dense and stiff length.
I adjust my body to lay across the table so that my head hangs over the edge and my throat lies exposed. “Come here,” my husky voice calls, encouraging him forward with gentle pulls.
Evan’s panting increases as he lowers his hands on either side of the table and grips the corners. He knows what’s coming.
I open my mouth wide, watching his face scrunch as I take him deep before closing my eyes and going to work.
My arms stretch out, my nails digging into his ass, encouraging the steady pump of his hips as I force myself to relax and take him deeper.
But Evan is a generous and selfless lover, unwilling to take pleasure without giving it in return. His large hands return to my breasts, allowing their fullness to sweep through his palms before he pinches the tips and curls forward, his mouth returning to my core.
You could say we lose our damn minds.
It becomes a competition, who can make the other groan louder, tense harder, plead for more. He wins, finishing me off first, but just as I feel his release build, he pulls away, swearing as he pops free from my mouth.
With expert hands he flips me around to face him and prop my leg on his shoulder. “What are you doing?” I ask. “I wanted to make you feel good.”
I shudder when his thick tip rubs against my folds and he tries to make his way in. “You said I could have you, anyway I want you. This is how I want you.”
My lids are so heavy I can barely see, but I see enough. He licks his thumb, returning it to my small bud and rubbing in slow gentle circles as he makes his way in.
My body clamps down around him. It’s the sweetest torture, having him move this slowly. I whimper with need as my body accepts his. But once he’s in as deep as he can go, he withdraws leisurely, as if we have all the time in the world.
When he’s mere centimeters from pulling out, he rams forward, repeating the motion and throwing my other leg over his shoulder. His fingers fastened to my hips as he goes full speed ahead, the table slamming into the wall with each surge.
The steady beat fills my ears. Evan is more animal than man now, his hips lurching while his mouth devours me with kisses to my throat, breasts, chin, and mouth. It doesn’t take long for that lovely pain to feather out, tantalizing every nerve cell I possess.
He clamps his jaw with his release, jerking forward and slamming his palms on the table. As he fills me, his motions slow, but not our breaths or the very grateful kiss I meet him with.
He tilts his head, smiling as he pulls me toward him. I stroke away his sweat-soaked brow, laughing when he finally kicks off his pants and shoes and eases my legs off his shoulders.
I lock my ankles around his waist when he lifts me off the table and carries me away from kitchen. “What are you going to do to me now?” I ask, my voice a purr.
“You’ll see,” he says.
I almost expect him to take us upstairs. He surprises me by carrying me into the garage. I bite down on my bottom lip when he lowers me to my feet and pulls out. He angles me around to face the hood of my truck.
“Remember how you said you’d let me do anything?” he asks, flicking his tongue along the arch of my ear.
“Uh-huh,” I respond, allowing him to bend me forward and spread my legs.
He glides his hardening tip along my slick center. “Here comes round two,” he whispers.