He grabbed her arm and yanked her down onto his lap. She didn't miss a beat, quickly rearranging her legs so she was straddling him.
“What if this is a mistake,” he panted when she pulled away enough to kiss down the side of his jaw.
“Does this feel like a mistake?”
“You do not love me.”
“Sanders, I love you more than just about anything.”
“But you're not in love with me.”
That made her pause for a moment. Did Sanders really want to wait to have sex until he was in love?
“No,” she agreed, and let her hands drop to his belt buckle. “But you're not in love with me, either, Sanders. No matter what you think. We're not making love here. We're having sex, and that's very different. You'll be having a lot more sex than you'll be making love in your life, trust me.”
If he'd argued with her, if he'd made any sort of statement about wanting to wait, or even if he'd hinted at it, she would've stopped. No real harm had been done. They'd kissed before, she'd sat on his lap before, it was no big deal.
But he didn't say anything. His hands came to rest on her hips and she leaned into him again, tracing her tongue down the side of his neck.
“I do not want this to come between us,” he insisted, clenching his fingers. “I don't want to do this if it could possibly ruin anything between us.”
Tate laughed again and as she bit down on his earlobe, she ripped his belt away from his waist, letting it fly across the room.
“This is two friends having a very good time together, and nothing more. If you understand that and you're okay with the fact that it'll only happen while we're here, then there is absolutely nothing to worry about.”
When she pulled off her top, he finally seemed to lose any reservations he'd had. His hands slid over her hips and up her back, his palms warm against her skin as he moved them up onto her shoulders.
“I don't understand why he would let you do this. Why he would share you,” he breathed, toying with one of her bra straps and gently sliding it to the side.
“Because he cares about you and he knows I'll take care of you,” she told him, wrapping her arms loosely around his shoulders. “And he trusts me and knows that I know what I'm doing, knows that no matter what happens, I belong to him. Besides, sex has always been different for Jameson – it's not as emotional for him. It's an act. Think of it like a pick-up tennis game. We're just playing a friendly set, you and I.”
“Whereas you and he are a doubles team.”
She let her head drop back and she laughed loudly.
“You really do understand me, Sanders. Even when I'm talking absolute bullshit.”
This time, he initiated the kiss. Tate knew she was the only woman he'd ever kissed, but he was still pretty good at it. With a mind like his, she wouldn't be surprised to find out he'd thought about it and studied the act in his mind. Going over and over it until he was confident he could do it well.
If that's true about his kissing, then jesus, he's going to be amazing in bed.
He startled her by abruptly standing up. Sanders was like chorded steel – slender and tone, and also very strong. She wrapped her legs around his waist and scratched her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. He carried her across the room, his tongue becoming very acquainted with the inside of her mouth while he moved.
“See? This isn't so bad,” she laughed when he lowered her to the bed.
“Please, don't talk. I'm trying not to think about what is going on right now.”
“Oh, you better be very aware of everything that's going on right now.”
Since the age of eighteen, Tate had never been shy about her body. Jameson had cured her of that, fucking away any inhibitions in one night. She knew what she liked, how she wanted to be touched, and she knew how she wanted to touch other people. She let her hands wander over every inch of Sanders without thought, memorizing him in a totally different way from before.
She pulled his undershirt away from his body and over his head, chucking it behind the headboard. Then moaned as he kissed along the shell of her ear, sighed as his hands ran down the sides of her body.
While Sanders may have been somewhat uncomfortable – what with being with a woman for the first time, and being with Tate at all – she wasn't. She felt more comfortable with Sanders than with anyone else, including Jameson. So touching him and playing with him were just second nature to her, even in this new way. His skin was her skin. She smiled against his kiss as she swept her hands down his chest and hooked her fingers into the top of his pants.
“I want you to talk to me,” she whispered into his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut when she unbuttoned his pants.
“I can't talk like him. I don't want to,” he told her. She laughed softly as she pulled down his zipper.
“I don't want you to,” she assured him. “I want you to tell me what you want. I want you to say anything that's in your head. Anything at all. Everything.”
“I don't ...” his voice trailed off as her hand slipped inside his pants and her fingernails scratched at his boxer briefs.
“Think of this as Sex 101,” she suggested. “This is your chance to ask what goes where and what to do with what, and not feel nervous or embarrassed at all. Tell me what you want.”
“I don't know,” he said, then she could hear his breath catching in his throat. She opened her eyes wide and stared down between their bodies. Sex was usually just sex, one man was pretty much like the next, she'd always told herself that – especially in regards to this endeavor – but this was still Sanders. He could never be like any other man in any regard, and that proved to be true in more ways than one. She was a little blown away by how ready and hard and large he was in her hand.
“I take it all back,” she laughed. “No matter what happens tonight, you will do perfectly fine in the sex department.”
He actually laughed. A loud, warm sound, coming from his chest. A rarity, for sure. Then he sighed and dropped his forehead to hers as she started stroking her hand up and down.
“I ...” he tried to speak again, but still couldn't finish. She licked her lips and moved her hand faster. Arched her back and pressed her breasts to his chest.
“Do you like this?” she breathed.
“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“What else?” she insisted, writhing slowly underneath him. Seeking some friction for herself. “Tell me what else you want.”
“I want ... I want to touch you.”
“God, yes, please touch me.”
He was kissing her again. He was a surprisingly aggressive kisser, lots of tongue and crushing lips. Just like she liked. One of his hands pressed down heavily over her breast and she gasped, then moaned as the hand moved over her stomach.
“Move.”
The command startled her and before she realized what was happening, he was pulling away. Breaking her hold on him. As her arm fell away from him, his own hands were squeezing her ribs. He roughly moved her, shifting her around on the bed. As he pushed her back into the pillows, she strained towards him, kissing him even as he continued moving over her. She had her hands on either side of his face, holding him close while he laid down on top of her.
“I want to explore you,” he whispered against her lips, and just the idea of it sent a shiver over her entire body.
“I would like that,” she whispered back.
“I've never been with a woman,” he said, kissing his way down her neck.
“I know,” she sighed, raking her fingers though her hair as his lips wandered down her cleavage.
“I may not be very good at any of this.”
“So far, so really fucking good, Sanders.”
“You would not lie to me about this.”
“No. No, I promise,” she panted, finally looking down at him. His brown hair was mussy and disheveled, tickling her as he kissed along the edge of her ribs. His hands were pressing down hard on the tops of her
hips – everything he'd done had been heavy, she realized. Like he was trying to push her through the mattress. It was such a different sensation. She was used to his touches being light. Gentle hugs and delicate pats.
He's trying to feel me, all the way through.
Then those same hands were pulling down the zipper in the center of her shorts and she suddenly caught on to what exactly it was he wanted to explore.
Oh, what a good man. He will do so well in life.
“Remember,” he breathed against her skin while he peeled the shorts away from her body. She lifted her legs as he pulled the material free from her. “You promised to be honest about my abilities.”
“When have I ever – oh my fucking god.”
Her eyes rolled back in her head when she felt his lips against the center of her panties. He hadn't bothered taking them off, just moved his tongue through the lace, doubling the friction. She gasped and threw her head back, her shoulders lifting off the mattress.
“Is that a good exclamation, or a bad one?” he paused to ask.
“A very fucking good one,” she panted, waving her hand at him impatiently. “Don't stop.”
Her assumption must have been right – he had to have been practicing in his head. Or possibly on fruit. He went down on her like it was something he did for a living. Her hands flew above her head, scratching down the headboard, and she even surprised herself when she cried out his name.
“Oh my god, Sanders, where has this side of you been hiding!? God, right there,” she was having trouble catching her breath. “Please, please, please, it's so good, right there ...”
She'd forgotten her own name and what was going on and even who she was doing it with – all she knew was that she was on the verge of coming and it was all that mattered. She was trembling and shaking, one hand clawing through his hair, when he took it all away.
She choked when he pulled back. She felt his tongue sweeping a straight line up the center of her stomach, then he was hovering over her. She opened her eyes just as he kissed her again, his lips warm and damp as they slid across hers.
“You're a bad, bad man,” she chuckled, then bit down on his bottom lip.
“Why?”
“Because you're a liar.”
“Pardon me, but I never lie.”
“Liar – you know exactly what you're doing to me.”
“That is a lie. I am guessing at every step. But thank you for the compliment.”
“You're very welcome. Now stop talking and fuck me.”
She hadn't meant to be vulgar with him, but it was just in her nature, and she was so turned on. She really hadn't expected it. She had imagined something sweet and sort of innocent. A bumbling virgin, fumbling around under the sheets with her. But so far, there wasn't much bumbling from him, at all. It seemed as though he really was exceptionally capable in everything he attempted. Her on-switch had been flipped and once that happened, there was very little that could be done to slow her down, and almost nothing that could stop her mouth.
Luckily, he didn't seem to notice her language, or just didn't mind. They both moved onto their knees, hands everywhere as they tried to get closer. One of his hands was fighting with the clasp in her bra while his other hand was inside the back of her underwear, pushing at the material and gently squeezing her ass.
She laughed when he let out a frustrated snort at her bra – there it finally was, a hint-o-bumbling – and she reached back and undid it herself. While she tossed it to the floor, he pushed her panties down her thighs at the same time as he kissed across her breasts. They both fell to the side, a tangle of arms and legs.
“This is the part I'm most nervous about,” he finally said while her feet pushed and shoved at his pants, forcing them awkwardly down his legs.
“Don't be nervous,” she said. “Tab A fits into Slot B almost every single time.”
“That is the easy part. It is the rest that I'm not sure about.”
“No one ever is, not until they've slept together a couple times. We'll figure it out together.”
He kicked his pants free of his legs and she wanted to look at him. Wanted to push him away so she could appraise him. But when he laid down on top of her, she remembered who this was about, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
“I wanted ...” he started to ask, then stopped himself. She stared up at him and combed her fingers through his hair.
“What? What do you want?” she asked. He wasn't looking at her, she realized. He was staring just over her shoulder, at the sheets.
“It feels awkward to be asking questions,” he explained. “I feel like there shouldn't be so much talking.”
“Are you serious? I never shut up in bed,” she laughed. “There's no rules, except the ones we make together. If I don't like something you're doing, I'll tell you, and vice versa, okay? So don't worry about it. Anything goes.”
“But I like rules,” he said simply. She groaned.
“Sanders, just let go. You don't have to be in control right now. What is it, are you embarrassed? Is it something kinky?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. He didn't say anything. “Do you want us to play a guessing game? Okay, what is it ... do you want me to blow you?”
“No,” he replied, then paused. “At least, not right now.”
She smiled big.
“Ooohhh, we'll save that for later. Something else – want me to get on my hands and knees? Want to spank me? I'm a very open minded person, as I would think you'd know by now,” she teased, but it still didn't seem to help. “Stop worrying, Sanders. I like it when you tell me what to do. I like it when you say what you want, when you say what you're going to do to me. It turns me on.”
He finally looked directly at her.
Jackpot.
“I want you to be on top of me.”
“Well, that's just asking too much,” she said in a dramatic voice, and they both laughed.
She kissed him again, trying to bring back the sensual mood he'd created so well just moments before. She pressed her body against every inch of his, forcing them onto their sides. When she rolled him onto his back, he moved a hand into her hair, and she was pleasantly surprised to feel him pulling. Not hard, but enough that she felt the tug.
Now we're getting somewhere.
“Can I tell you things?” he whispered as she put her knees on either side of his hips, forcing her ass into the air.
“Tell me anything,” she breathed, keeping her chest flush with his while she kissed the side of his face and his ear.
“I like the way you smell,” he sighed. She smiled against his skin.
“I never knew.”
“And the way you feel. You're very soft.”
“Thank you.”
She propped herself up over him and stared down at him for a second, then she kissed him gently.
“No going back, Sanders,” she whispered, running her hand down his body and between her legs. “I'm not going to force you, but I want to do this. I want you to do it with me.”
“I want this,” he agreed, his fingers spearing into her hair and holding it away from her face. “As of right now, you are truly the only person I feel comfortable enough with to engage in this kind of activity.”
“But it will only be now,” she warned him. “Only while we're here. Is that okay?”
He nodded.
“I wouldn't want anything ese,” he promised. “Nor would I ask for it.”
She had one hand on his chest, holding her up, and her other hand was wrapped around him. Holding him. Guiding him. She had kind of hoped he would look at her when it happened. She wanted him to remember this moment. But his eyes were closed, his head tilted back, his lips parted. She couldn't wait any longer, so she slowly slid down his erection.
“Ooohhh, wow,” she breathed, finally taking him to the hilt.
“This ...” he sighed. “Thank you.”
She laughed softly.
“Congrats. You're not a virgin anymore,” sh
e informed him, smoothing her hand down the side of his face. He didn't open his eyes, but he chuckled and moved his hands to her hips.
“Perhaps I am wrong, but I think I'm a virgin until I actually orgasm,” he informed her. She snickered.
“Oh, well then, better get to work.”
“No rush.”
She laughed again, but it was cut short when he moved his hips under her. She gasped when she felt his hands squeezing her, urging her to move. She obliged, rocking against him, sliding up and down his hard length.
He was quiet, which for a person with Tate's fetishes somewhat unnerved her, but he was big enough that it really didn't matter too much. He also had rhythm – she remembered he'd taken dancing lessons and wondered if they were coming in handy now. For it being his first time, she was very impressed. So he wasn't a talker; most people weren't, she had to remember. This was about him finding out what he liked, not about knowing what she already liked.
However, she was a little surprised when he finally did speak.
“Faster,” he urged. She chuckled and started riding him harder.
Then she was really surprised when she felt his hand on her chest. He was pushing at her, forcing her to sit upright. She was happy to do so, moaning when she felt him even deeper than before. Her hands went into her hair, lifting the long tresses off her neck and shoulders.
His hands, once he'd started moving them, didn't stop wandering. They slid around to her back, pressing down hard to enough to feel like a massage. She groaned when they finally came back to her breasts, cupping them and lifting them. She knew it was all supposed to be about him and letting him lead the way and whatnot, but she couldn't help herself. She dropped her hands to his, squeezing them over her breasts, then she dragged his right hand up to her face. She wrapped her lips around the base of his index finger, then slowly pulled it free, sucking as she went.
“Oh my god,” he groaned, and it was probably the most uncontrolled she'd ever heard him sound in the entire time they'd known each other.
Who knew that would be so hot?
The Kane Series Boxset Page 102