Each tug and pull egged me on, and I moved my mouth down the line of her jaw as precisely as I could while her head swerved and bobbed on its very own, very different agenda.
If I was going to have any chance of making this the experience for her I wanted it to be, I knew I’d have to slow it down.
Matching the tempo of my frenzied hands to the speed I desired, it didn’t take long until she followed along, her gasps and deep breaths tickling the pimpled flesh of the entire top half of my body.
Rolling to my back, I took some of the pressure off of my arm by not having to hold myself up, and the view it left me with didn’t go unappreciated. I reached behind her back boldly, snapping the clasp of her black, lacy bra open and dragging it down the length of her arms deliberately.
I followed a shiver with my eyes as it snaked up her spine and landed in the blue pools of her eyes. Unsure and unsteady, they looked into mine desperately, searching with discomfort at the speed in which we’d gotten here.
Waiting to see where her uncertainty would take us, I didn’t stop, but rather skimmed the tips of my fingers slowly up her sides until the weight of her delectable breasts rested easily in my hands.
“I’m more wine than grape,” she declared suddenly, bringing my hands to a stop mid-squeeze.
I worked to figure out what she was saying, but relocated, alcohol-thinned blood didn’t do my brain any favors. “So . . . you’re saying you’re a liquid?”
I FELT MY EYES ROLL as my right hand settled on my hip.
I, of course, didn’t mean for those things to happen, especially with one of my heavy breasts in each of his large hands, but as a woman confronted with a normal male response, they just did.
“I’m aged.”
A sexy smile settled deep into his cheeks, and his hands just barely squeezed.
“Baby,” he paused, letting that one word run through my body completely before continuing on, “you look perfectly ripe to me.”
Sincerity bled from his words, as creative as they were, and the voice in the back of my head told me to believe him.
And I wanted to.
But years of being unlucky in love and the accumulation of wrinkles, rolls, and other signs of aging had me unable to move on.
The words shot out of me like a rocket, unchecked and unedited. “I’m not one of those girls who can throw both her knees behind her head and lick her own vagina.”
Blood rose quickly to my cheeks, tinging the golden skin pink. I could not freaking believe I’d just said that.
“Those girls exist?” he asked incredulously, his tongue just barely stopping itself from rolling out to make a carpet runner in front of him.
Men.
I raised an eyebrow.
He swallowed visibly. “Did you used to be one of them?”
“Wade!” I snapped as I swatted a feminine hand into the center of his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he defended through a chuckle. “It’s just . . . well. Are you trying to talk me out of sleeping with you right now?”
Blood reddened my cheeks fully as I shook my head minutely in the negative.
“Because you’re doing an awful lot of rationalizing and pointing out of things that you think are going to be some sort of negative, and well . . . all you’re really doing is distracting me. I’m trying to give you some of my best stuff, and it takes a little bit of concentration.”
“Sorry,” I apologized, the buzz of the wine and the wild of his words making my cheeks darken even further—something I would have guessed was an impossibility.
His voice turned soft, and the bass quality of his tone produced an almost imperceptible rasp.
“I’m not sure where all of these insecurities are coming from.” I looked down, but it didn’t last long. His hand left my body and settled on my chin, lifting my eyes to once again meet his. He made me face his words head on.
It was one of the nicest things a man had ever done for me.
“Alli, you are a beautiful woman. Inside and, especially in this moment, out.”
Closing my eyes, I let his words sink in.
Strengthened by them, my head fell back of its own volition, and I made a conscious decision to push my swollen breasts even further into his willing hands.
My back hit the bed in what felt like an instant, and I’d remember the scratch of his facial hair on my skin as he feasted on my peaked nipple for the rest of my life.
Breath left me in a gasp, the middle of my spine arching and climbing off the bed as though it was attached to a puppet string.
My thighs clenched and cornered the warm flesh of his abdomen, going to the extra effort to ensure he’d be trapped on top of me even though he’d shown no signs of leaving.
Already this moment climbed into a spot in the top ten ever, and it had barely even started.
The muscles of his back contracted under my hands, and I moved my mouth open and closed as the sensation of his tongue at my breast shot straight to the apex between my legs.
I felt restless and eager and everything I’d been missing since the last time Nick made love to me all those years ago.
Only this time, older and wiser from years of missing it, I knew enough to enjoy it.
“Wade,” I breathed, a hitch in my breath catching at the same time the tips of my nails clenched in an attempt to break through smooth, golden skin.
“Busy,” he called back between kisses. I watched through heavily-lidded eyes as his mouth moved down the line of my body.
Up until that moment, I’d felt like nothing in this moment could mean as much to him as it did to me. But as his lips paused just inside my hip bones, briefly, but significantly on each side, I knew it wasn’t just me involved in this anymore.
His nose skimmed a line from side to side, up and down, a gentle nuzzling of the place that had both brought me everything and, now, was threatening to take it all away.
Long lashes tickled and taunted the very top layer of my skin as he placed one very last kiss on the bottom swell of my belly before moving down to the inside of my thighs.
Wade placed two kisses on top of the lace of my panties before growing frustrated, tearing them down my legs quickly, and tossing them somewhere over his shoulder.
Not even a second of time passed before a mouth hit me directly between the legs for the first time in over a decade. My last husband, Chase—the only man I’d married besides Nick—didn’t do many sexual activities that wouldn’t benefit him at the same time. I’d been satisfied with our sex life, and as far as I’d known, not many men enjoyed the act of giving a woman head.
Frankly, I’d spent almost all of my time trying to please him, and I didn’t think all that much about things that would exclusively please me, physically and otherwise.
Haley always joked that I had a sickeningly people-pleasing heart, and I couldn’t deny it. But I desperately wanted to find the balance. I wanted to be one of the people I was pleasing.
Sensation shot from my thighs to my toes, bending my knees involuntarily and twisting my hands in the comforter.
His brown-haired head sat squarely in between my legs, the ends of each short strand tickling the over sensitized skin surrounding. My eager fingers crawled creatively from the bed to his head, and soft hair settled in between my fingers like it belonged.
Stubble scraped and scratched as he worked me, finding my clit with the tip of his tongue and following it with his lips.
Suction pulled my hips off of the bed until his warm hands used them to pull me even closer. Excitement poured out of me, and he answered it with a vibrating groan.
Time and inexperience only heightened the feel of his every move, pointing quite glaringly to something I wouldn’t mind experiencing for another thirty years or so. Not too long, just until my libido took the ultimate dive or I died.
Whichever came last.
Need tightened the very bottom of my belly, aching in a way that couldn’t go unnoticed. I wanted it all. The orgasm, the euph
oria, the knowledge that my body still very much knew what it was doing.
But I didn’t want it on my own. I wanted it with him inside of me. I wanted to feel full, both of him and life, and I wanted it right then.
“Wade,” I called, giving a tug to his hair at the same time.
His head moved side to side as if to deny me, and his tongue never slowed.
Over-eager fingers clenched, pulling his hair with enough force to remove his tongue.
Brown eyes flared, angry flames dancing and dashing with the annoyance of interruption.
“Alli!” he scolded, the shiny evidence of his work winking in the light on his face.
“You,” I pointed. “Pants off.”
He shook his head in answer, but my grip didn’t loosen. In fact, it tightened reflexively as his hands slid from my hips to the ribs just under my breasts.
His mouth met mine, and his lips and tongue fought one another for dominance in the most perfectly choreographed dance I’d ever experienced.
The bite of his teeth on my bottom lip elicited a small squeal, but ultimately served its intended purpose of getting my attention.
“Stop rushing me.” His eyes danced as he backed off of the bed in a slow crawl and opened his arms wide at his sides. A raised eyebrow taunted me, well accompanied by his most boyish of smiles. “You want my pants off?”
His hands worked the button, unfastening the zipper hastily and shucking them downward, underwear and all. “They’re gone.”
Kicking them free, he crawled back up my body, the length of him skimming first my thigh and then my stomach as he went. “But I’m gonna take my time, and you’re going to enjoy every minute of it.”
Mute, I nodded, knowing I’d be a fool to argue. I mean, what was I going to say? Get it over with and make it horrible? I didn’t think so.
His mouth found the shell of my ear, and the shape of his smirk made my skin tingle. Whispered words made my legs even more restless. “Skin on skin. God, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything better.”
He kissed his way across my face, hitting both cheeks, my nose, and my lips before settling at the other ear. “I am a little disappointed about something though.”
Doubt plagued me, and it didn’t take long until I felt my body start to curl into itself. However, something about the way he said it—and maybe a little newfound self-worth—made me stop.
“What?”
The flat, top line of his nose curved around the shell of my ear, pausing to brush against the lobe with extra care. Before I knew it, the warmth of his body left mine, his knee settled into the bed between my legs, and I was on the move. Up and in his arms, he settled the heat of me on his thigh unabashedly, letting the length of him rest perpendicular to my hip. He glanced down and just barely flirted with a smile before looking directly back into my eyes.
“I was kind of hoping the sight of me naked would wow you enough to bring on another faint.”
I bit my lip, embarrassment once again ripening my cheeks marginally.
He shrugged. Deepened his smile. “I guess I’ll just have to keep trying.”
The peaks of my nipples scraped the hair of his chest as my arms convulsed.
The chords of his throat spasmed and worked, forcing me to take a swallow of my own. Anticipation pounded in every inch of my body, swelling the skin and brightening it with a fully flushed glow.
Looking between us again, he shifted me so that I straddled him completely, maneuvering the weight of my body like it was nothing. Tight abs flexed and bunched, and the sight of them was only momentarily distracting from the sight of his cock settling between the lips of my pussy.
His eyes jerked to mine suddenly, the widening of all of his lush lashes entirely noticeable.
Panic was alive and breathing, and it wouldn’t be long before I knew the reason.
“I don’t suppose you have a condom?” His eyes were pleading.
I did a rapid blink of my own, the beat of my heart once again kicking into overdrive and forcing pain into my fingertips.
“Shit.” His eyes closed slowly, painfully, and my brain raced to find a viable solution.
You’d think at my age I wouldn’t have to worry anymore, but the truth was, I did. I had yet to go through menopause, I still had my uterus, and I certainly wasn’t willing to take the risk of making a baby with what I had burgeoning on an ugly horizon.
Chances were slim, but any chance was too much.
Like lightening it hit me, the warmth of his body calling to me so desperately I was unwilling to bow out. “I don’t think I cleaned out my ex-husband’s nightstand!”
He chuckled, the absurdity of my statement bouncing around in between us. “You know, that statement should make me feel a lot worse than it does. I guess it’s the whole survival of the fittest mentality my cock has going at the moment. Any chance to live on, and he’s going to take it.”
“I have no idea if there are any in there, and we might be skirting a line with expiration—”
He was already moving, my body along for the ride like he was born conjoined to me.
The brush of the wooden drawer along its casing sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room.
“Aha!” he yelped, a strip of condoms coming up between his fingers in victory.
“Not so fast,” I cautioned, killing his buzz. “What’s the expiration?”
He leaned around me into the light, holding the strip of condoms this way and that, fighting to find the answer.
“Shit,” he grumbled, shifting me further to the side to lean more into the light of the bedside lamp. “Goddamn eyesight. I can’t read this. Can you read this?” he complained irritably.
“Give them to me,” I instructed, holding out a hand and pulling the strip around his back to read them. “Move to the left,” I instructed. “More. I can’t see. You’re in my light now.”
A deep sigh rumbled from his chest, his forehead hitting my shoulder dramatically.
Resigned, I matched his sigh. “Hold on, let me just grab my glasses.”
His head started to shake, a low chuckle bouncing up the line of my collarbone. “So this is what it’s come to,” he mused, the tips of his fingers tensing into my hips before sliding up the line of my ribs and ghosting the under swell of my breasts.
“This is why you gain humility with age,” I explained sagely. “To prepare you for situations like this.”
“Or you just date eighteen year olds so they can read the condom wrapper for you,” he teased, falling backwards swiftly to ease my reach.
I landed one solid swat on his uninjured shoulder before grabbing my glasses from the now-accessible nightstand and slipping them onto my face.
“Let’s see,” I muttered as I studied the fine print littering the tiny package.
Come on, where’s the date?
“You know what?” he laughed. “Take your time.”
I glanced down at our current position, my thighs splayed confidently across his hips with both of my large breasts swinging freely in his face.
His eyes sparkled with newfound mischief.
Getting back on task, I focused once more on the package, finally finding the date. I started to read, but my concentration was broken when wet warmth found the whole of my nipple and pulled. Gentle teeth nibbled at the peak.
“Ahhh,” I gasped, bowing my body so that my chest pressed closer to his mouth.
Releasing that nipple, he kissed his way to the other, whispering clipped words in between. “What’s . . . the . . . date . . . Alli . . . girl?”
With renewed concentration, I finally succeeded in my goal, finding that we were, indeed, good to go. “It’s—”
“Good or bad?” he asked, impatient.
“Good.”
“Fuck yes!” he cheered as he flipped me off of him and onto the bed on my stomach. A slap on the ass sounded as he commandeered it from my hands, ripped it open with his teeth, and rolled it down his generous length.
Firm
hands grabbed my hips and rolled me with a twist, his hips falling in between mine as quick as I hit bed.
This Wade was playful. Exuberant and young and completely confident in himself and our actions. He made me feel free and confident in turn, the ease with which he studied my body helping me feel comfortable with myself. I didn’t know if it was his natural way or if he’d been enhanced by the wine, but if this was the result, given the chance, I’d get him liquored up at every capitalizable opportunity for the foreseeable future.
But I’d left my flexibility behind with my days as an acrobat. And since I wasn’t ever an acrobat, that meant I’d never been this flexible.
“I think you broke my hip!”
“I’ll pay for the replacement,” he teased, amusing me to no end. All the heroes I read about in my novels were always offering to replace ripped panties. Mine was offering to replace a hip.
One of his arms slipped behind my back, cradling my upper body despite the support of the bed. His other hand massaged my hip—perhaps prepping it for surgery.
In a way, I guess that was true. He was planning to stick his scalpel in my incision, and a massage to the hip went a long way towards preparing the surgical site.
Cough.
So to speak.
Bringing my mind back to the activities at hand wasn’t even remotely hard when he positioned himself at my opening, cradled the back of my head, and forced my eyes to meet his.
His stare was intensely personal, the way I always dreamed it would be when a man made love to me. Ironically, it was the same way it very rarely was.
I FELT THE MOST COMPLICATED mix of intensely personal and equally outside driven.
The amount I cared for Allison was unquestionable, the role she played in Danny’s life and all she’d done for him adding to it immeasurably.
And the arousal she evoked in me wasn’t anywhere near lacking either. I’d been fighting a hard cock since the first minute I’d seen her.
So I knew, as I carefully slid inside of her, connecting our bodies as closely as humanly possible, that it was her blue eyes I was looking into. Her heart beat openly, the perfect circles of turquoise rippling like a pulsing pool and staring back at me like a window directly into her chest.
Accidental Alpha Page 8