by Tamara Lush
We are beautiful together.
He notices what I’m staring at and presses his mouth to my neck, right below my earlobe. I let out a little moan.
“See what a perfect couple we make?” he murmurs. “The only crazy thing is how much I want you.”
Sixteen
Tate
It defies logic how much I want this woman.
As I seize her mouth with mine, I grow hot all over. I’m on the verge of sweating through my clothes. This isn’t want, my feelings for her.
It’s need. Sheer, raging, need. And probably one other emotion too, a word I’m not equipped to analyze at this moment because lust is most certainly clouding my judgment.
Or maybe that other emotion is making everything hazy and unfocused. Who the hell knows? That flash of jealousy I displayed when I asked about Jacques was out of character, that’s for sure.
A soft, breathy moan slips from her mouth, and I almost come unhinged with animalistic lust.
Right now, I’m concentrating on two things: us getting naked and me giving her the most mind-blowing orgasm she’s ever had. Two of them, even. Or more. Normally I’m no slouch in this department when I’m with a woman, but today I’m uncharacteristically nervous.
This is my opportunity to show her we’re as physically compatible as we are intellectually matched. At the end of tonight, I don’t want her to have any doubt I’m the man for her.
I slide my hands to cup her head—I love holding her face like this, it’s strangely intimate—and kiss her slow. My tongue runs across her bottom lip, and she purrs like a kitten, a feminine, faint noise that makes my stomach tighten with blind desire.
Then there’s her scent. It’s jasmine, I’m sure of that, but also with hints of sandalwood, I think. She smells crisp and classy. Way too classy for me, but I’m not going to argue, because I feel like I’m being given the gift of a lifetime every time she kisses me.
The sounds of her shoes hitting the wood floor make two dull thuds. One of my hands releases her face, and I rest my fingers on her bare thigh. I’ve been sneaking glances at her smooth, bronze legs all day and longing to touch her curves.
Now that I’m actually caressing her leg, I suck in a sharp breath. My touch is gentle at first, and she seems to like it because she parts her legs a couple of inches.
I allow my hand to skim her thigh as we kiss, and she spreads a little wider. That’s when I lose it.
I grab her by her shoulders and practically throw her onto the bed. For a beat, I wonder if it’s too much, but then she reaches for me, pulling me on top of her with equal urgency, fisting the front of my button-down shirt in her hands.
“Tate,” she whispers fiercely, her hands going to my hair, her nails against my scalp. Pleasurable tingles wash from my head to my toes.
“Yes, babe?” I say between fierce, almost rough, kisses.
“I want you inside of me. I want you.”
I prop myself up and look into her beautiful amber eyes. My heart’s beating so fast, it’s like the time I ran a marathon. I’m breathing almost as hard, too. But this is sheer sexual excitement, the anticipation of seeing Bella naked, of fulfilling all the lusty desires I’ve had over the past several days.
And Jesus, there have been so many.
She’s undoing my tie, fumbling to get it out of its knot, while I’m unbuttoning my shirt. We’re both trembling and not moving fast enough because we glance into each other’s eyes and smile.
Finally, I sit up, and so does she. Taking over, I strip the tie out of my shirt and unbutton. Before I’m done, her hands go onto my bare chest, stroking my muscles. I love the way she touches me: unhurried, curious, sensual. It’s the perfect mix.
I shuck my shirt off, tossing it to the floor, and grope at the back of her dress while she explores my chest with her palms.
“You in this little black dress teased me all afternoon. I had a hard time keeping my eyes off you today. So fucking hot.”
The corners of her mouth turn up. “No one’s ever said that about my boring black dress.”
“It’s anything but boring to me. Now, where’s the zipper?”
“There’s a hook, too.” She lifts her hair in both hands, and she looks sultry in this pose. I’m shaking by the time I unhook the dress at her nape.
It takes about three seconds too long to unzip her, and she sits back on her heels and pulls the dress over her head impatiently.
Holy hell.
Bella’s kneeling before me in a matching, black lace and silk bra and panty set. It’s both chaste and insanely erotic how the fabric covers her intimate parts. The primal, caveman part of my brain tells me to rip it to shreds with my hands and possibly my teeth while slobbering like a rabid animal. But I suspect that her lingerie costs more than my first car, and slobbering would be a massive turn-off, so instead, I stop unbuttoning my belt to gape at her gorgeous body.
“What?” She licks her lips.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She rolls her eyes and scoots toward me. “Oh, come on.”
I cup her neck with my hand, preventing her from getting any closer so I can stare at her more. “I’m serious. You’re my ideal woman. All I want to do is stare at you. And I can’t believe you’re here, practically naked in my house, doing this with me.”
She lets out a soft snort. “Please.”
“I’m not lying. You’re gorgeous. Do you know what you’re doing to me?” In fact, I need to get these damned pants off because they’re uncomfortably tight. My hands return to my belt as she comes close, loosely wrapping her arms around me. Her scent surrounds me, somehow making my dick even harder. She bites my neck softly, and I groan.
Pushing my pants down, she giggles as I wrangle my socks off. For now, I’m leaving my boxer briefs on, although even the soft material is straining around my dick.
“See? This is because of you.” I rub the palm of my hand over my cock, through the fabric.
She laughs. “I see. I guess I do have an effect on you.”
“I love that about you,” I murmur, pressing her onto the mattress.
“What? That I make you hard?”
I ease her leg to the side with my knee and thrust my hips slowly into her. “No. How you laugh. How you seem happy to be with me. And yeah, you have that other effect on me. On that part of my body.”
“I am happy when I’m with you. So much.” She inhales sharply when our stomachs touch, and my chest brushes against her breasts. “Your skin. My God. You feel amazing.”
We do this for a delicious several moments, kissing and caressing and grinding against one another. My hand goes onto her breasts, palming one, then the other.
I hesitate before I slide my fingers under the fabric. “Can I?” I whisper.
She half-sits up and undoes the back clasp, then whips off the bra so fast that her naked tits jiggle a little, and I feel a tingling in my balls at the sight.
There’s no control left in me. I suck hard on her nipples, pinch them until they’re hard peaks. She’s writhing under me, mewling, and I’m desperate for more. I sit up and hook the sides of her panties in my thumbs.
She shifts so her legs are pressed together, and she’s looking at me through her lashes, her eyes seductive and languid. I love that she’s allowing me to do what I want with her, love how she’s making me feel in control and like a total caveman.
I pull her panties off and spy a small, manicured thatch of hair between her legs. I lean forward to kiss the smooth skin above her bellybutton.
“I’m genuinely stumped,” I say.
She giggles. “Why?”
“I don’t know whether to touch you or lick you or fuck you first.”
“Oh. Oh!” Her eyes grow wide.
“What?” I kiss a circle around her bellybutton, aching from the knowledge she’s completely naked and that any second, I could be balls deep inside of her. I mentally locate my wallet in my pants pocket on the floor and calcu
late how long it will take me to dive for it and grab the condom inside.
“You want to lick me down there?”
“Most definitely.” I look up and notice two lines have formed between her pretty eyebrows. “Why?”
“Well…” Her voice trails off, and she runs her fingers through my hair. “No one’s ever done that before. With their mouth. I mean. Duh. People lick with their mouths. But no one’s ever…”
I look up in astonishment. Between this and what she’s said about Jacques, I wonder what kind of men the royal princesses of Europe have been dating. Because this American guy sure as hell wants to spend the next several hours eating her pussy.
Or maybe even the rest of my life. No judgment on the royal dating pool—it means more Bella for me. And the fact that I’m the first to do this? Ain’t gonna lie. It makes me feel even more like a primitive man, claiming his woman.
Now’s not the time to discuss any of that, though. Instead, I grin and dip my head and trail my tongue from my bellybutton to the top of her patch of hair. She’s breathing hard now.
I glance up while stroking her thighs. “Will you open your legs for me, baby?”
She does, slowly. My gaze goes between her legs. Dear God.
Other than the small triangle of hair on her mound, she’s bare. Everywhere. And so fucking plump and beautiful. I can see just enough of her inner folds to know she’s soaking wet, and her clit glistens and beckons. Practically calls my name, and I salivate.
I’m thinking about how to tell her this, enjoying the sight of her pussy so much that my hand inadvertently goes to my crotch. I rub myself a little through my underwear, then stop. If I do it too much while looking at her, I’ll probably orgasm in two seconds.
She begins to close her legs.
“Wait. Why?” I look up with genuine alarm. “No!”
“You don’t like.”
“The hell I don’t.” I gently push open her thighs and press a kiss to her smooth outer lips, inhaling her addictive scent. “You are perfection. You look perfect. You smell perfect. And…”
I give her a long lick, my tongue parting her folds. “And you taste incredible. Fuck, Bella baby.”
She whimpers and arches off the bed.
“You like that?”
“Yeah.” Her voice is a whisper-moan.
“Good. Because I want to do this for a very long time.”
I hold her thighs wide open so I can easily lick her. First her outer lips, then her inner ones, and like I anticipated, she’s drenched. She’s also squirming against my mouth, seeking release. I dip my tongue inside her and drink her in. She’s already moaning, and I haven’t even gotten to her clit.
I give her outer lips a few long strokes with my tongue, and she tugs at my hair, pulling my head up.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I feel…vulnerable…when you do this.” She blinks.
“Do you want me to stop? I will. I’d never pressure you to do anything you don’t want.”
She shakes her head. “I just wanted you to know. I’m not sure if I can relax.”
“Does it feel good?”
She nods.
“It’s going to get even better in a second, I promise. Just breathe and enjoy. If you come, you come. If you don’t and still enjoy it, that’s okay, too. Just as long as it feels good. I only want you to feel good with me, babe.”
She settles back down, and I circle the swollen nub of her clit with my tongue. Around and around. She lets out a breathy exhale.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s supposed to feel,” she murmurs and giggles. This woman, I swear. She’s adorable. And delicious. I flick my tongue rapidly across her clit.
She lets out a more guttural noise and arches her back again. I suck on her gently, then circle again with my tongue. All I want is to please her and drive her into…
“You’re driving me crazy, Tate,” she cries.
Mission accomplished.
“I want you inside me.”
No, she’s the one driving me crazy, with her scent and her sexy cries. I slip a finger inside her and waggle the end while I tongue her clit. She responds with a throaty moan and the word more.
Then she chants my name as I finger and lick her in a slow, building rhythm. Her knees bend, and one leg flops to one side, while the other attaches to my shoulder. We’re a wet tangle of limbs, and her thighs are starting to shake.
“I’m so close,” she whimpers. “Oh, my God, so close. Wow.”
“Wow is right, Bella baby,” I murmur in between deep kisses to her pussy. I add a second finger, desperately wanting her to come because she deserves all this pleasure. And more.
She lets out a low primal cry, and I feel the muscles of her pussy spasming around my tongue. Her nails dig into my scalp as she repeats the word yes over and over. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
With her fingers, she lifts my head, and I continue sliding my fingers in and out of her, slower now. She’s looking at me as if I hold a magic power.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” she says, letting go of my hair. I slide my fingers out of her, and she mewls again, her eyes half-lidded, as if a few stray orgasmic waves rolled in at the last second.
She opens her eyes wide and grins. I sit up to admire my handiwork. There’s nothing better than a satisfied woman who has just had an orgasm, and Bella is the most beautiful example I’ve ever seen. She crooks her index finger and smiles.
“You. Come here. Wait. No.” She waggles her finger toward my dick. “Take off your boxers first.”
My thumbs hook in the waistband of my underwear. “You don’t have to ask twice.”
Seventeen
Isabella
Even though I’m a princess, I’m not enamored with luxury. Designer gowns? I’d prefer a cute pair of sneakers. Private jets? Wasteful and terrible for the environment. Jewels? Meh.
I do have one vice: Champagne.
And being with Tate is like drinking the rarest, most delicious vintage Champagne.
With half-lidded eyes and a sated, post-orgasm grin plastered on my face, I watch as he gropes for his pants. He’s muttering something about a condom in his wallet, and after the release I just had, I’m completely content for a few moments. The sun is low in the sky and sending a warm glow through the open curtains and onto the bed.
Of course, I want him inside of me. But the after-effects of his oral skills have left me feeling like I drank a glass of Dom Perignon’s most expensive rosé, the kind that’s nearly impossible to find and is upwards of $2,000 a bottle.
I’ve never had an orgasm like I did just now. It was light, joyful, and delicately explosive, like millions of small, rose-colored bubbles burst through my body.
“Amazing,” I murmur.
Tate comes back over to the bed, condom in hand. He places it in between my breasts and the cool foil packet sends goosebumps racing across my hot skin.
“What’s amazing?” He smoothly slides his boxers off, and his erection springs forward.
Whoa. My breath stops in my throat when I see how big he is. How smooth and hard. “You.”
I watch as he takes the condom, opens the packet, and rolls the condom down his shaft. Everything he does in bed is deliberate, thoughtful, and thigh-squeezingly erotic. The filtered sunshine on his body highlights all those ridges and valleys of his muscles.
He climbs half on top of me, and I open my arms. And legs. His fingers skim my belly, and lower, dipping and skimming through my still-drenched sex.
“You ready for me still?” he whispers, circling my clit.
I shudder pleasurably. This man’s knowledge of the clitoris is impressive.
“How about a second orgasm?” His fingers work in a firm, circular motion, and I allow my eyes to flutter shut so I can concentrate on the pleasure. I nod weakly.
“What’s that, Bella? Is that a yes? You want me to give you another?”
“Yes,” I whimper.
A
nd he does. This time, the release is more explosive, and when I’m at on the downward slope of my orgasm, he slides his cock inside me.
“Oh my God. Bella. I’ve never felt, never…fuck,” he growls.
I’m unable to speak. The only thing I can do is open my legs wider, bend my knees more, so he can go deeper. I hook my heels into his lower back, urging him inside. I’m also digging my nails into his upper arms and probably should let up, but he doesn’t seem to mind—and the feeling of being filled with his cock is so intense that I need to grip something.
He slows the thrust of his hips, and my eyes widen. “Don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t think of it.”
I want to succumb to the sensations, to close my eyes and just feel. But I also want to remember every second of this, imprint every possible mental photograph of Tate. Not only because of his physical beauty, but because of how he’s looking at me while we’re doing this in bed.
It’s this mixture of caring and reverence and dominance. Something I’ve never seen from the few guys I’ve been with. Usually, men are in their own carnal cocoon during sex, intent on pleasuring only themselves.
Not Tate. He’s totally present and in the moment. Every few minutes he’ll dip his head to kiss me or smile.
“This feels incredible, doesn’t it?” he asks.
I love how he checks in with me. Wants to know if I’m having as good of a time as he is. Perhaps his best quality as a lover—hell, as a person—is that he’s unselfish.
“It does feel incredible,” I whisper. “Come here.”
I slide my arms around his back, and he groans. “Just like that. Skin to skin. Bella, I’m going to come soon. Are you?”
I shake my head against his neck. “I can’t come from penetration alone. But I’ve had two orgasms already.”
He props himself up on his hands and does a slow grind of his cock into me. “Maybe we can change that someday.”