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There’s a tension in his jaw when he lifts up and peers down at me, obviously thinking about the last time I might’ve used them, and sure, if it were any other man, I might kick his ass. But this is Ian, and I’m realizing that I like him jealous. I like him hating the idea of me with anyone else.
I lean up to kiss his cheek. “I haven’t used them in a long time.”
“I didn’t say anything,” he mutters sheepishly.
I feel my lips curl. “I know.”
He rolls away from me with renewed urgency, and I take advantage of the opportunity to rid myself of my bra, tossing it to the floor.
“I wanted to do that,” he huffs as his knee dips on the bed, sans jeans and condom in hand. “Fuck, look at you.”
And he is. Looking at me. He presses his palm against the top of my belly, slowly pushing upward until his fingers are smoothing through the soft skin between my breasts.
“Fucking edible,” he murmurs again.
And as if to prove his point, he leans in close until I can feel the warmth of his breath against my nipple, and it hardens in anticipation. The first flick of his tongue is tentative, like a tease, but just like when his mouth was between my legs, it takes him no time at all to wrap his lips around the stiff peak and suck it into his mouth, leaving me a moaning mess by the time he releases me with a wet pop.
“How do you want me?”
I blink dazedly, trying to process the question. “Huh?”
“You said you’ve fantasized about this.” Another slow pull of his lips around my nipple before, “I want to make sure to get it right.”
My mind flicks through a dozen scenarios that I’ve dreamt up over the years, feeling like a kid in a candy store with it being left up to me. Although, I think it’s one of those situations where there’s no wrong answer. But still, there’s one picture that is solid in my thoughts, and if we are working through my list, it’s as good a place to start as any.
“On top,” I say breathlessly. “I want to ride you.”
“You really are going to kill me with that mouth of yours,” he huffs. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to get used to it.”
I sit up, smirking at him as I reach for his underwear. I tug at the elastic, pushing at his hips simultaneously to urge him to go where I want him. He falls down onto his back with the same eagerness he’s given everything else, watching me through hooded eyes as I start to drag his boxer briefs down his thick thighs. I don’t think I could ever be fully prepared for the experience that is seeing Ian’s cock for the first time; it slaps up against his abs, hard and red and so fucking thick I press my thighs together in anticipation—and if I wasn’t so desperate to have him inside me, I would definitely be pushing the “sucking his dick” issue.
Later. Definitely later.
“You look pretty edible yourself, Cupcake,” I tease. I hold out my hand, gesturing to the condom he is still holding. “Gimme that.”
He passes it to me wordlessly, never taking his eyes off what I’m doing. I can feel the weight of his gaze as I tear open the wrapper with my teeth, biting gently at my lip as I concentrate on rolling it over his thick length. His large hand wraps around the base, giving himself a slow, lazy stroke when he’s fully encased, still tracking my every move as I push up on my knees, grinning at him as I shimmy out of my underwear. His fingers curl around my hip—and it turns me on even further that he can encompass me entirely, given how generous my hips are—to steady me as I lift my leg to straddle his waist, my heartbeat thumping away in my ears as his eyes drift between my legs.
“Fucking hell.” His palm slides across my hip bone, his thumb dipping between my thighs to slip between them to tease my clit. “Look how wet you are.” His thumb glides through my folds in a slow back-and-forth, his breath punching out of him like it’s a chore. “Is that for me?”
My lashes flutter as I nod, sucking in a breath. “Mhm.”
“Come here, sweet girl,” he hums. “Wanna watch you sit on my cock.”
I brace my hands on his abs that feel like granite under my fingers, imagining for a moment tracing each groove with my tongue. Something else for later, I think. I rock my hips back and forth so that I can grind down on his cock without actually taking him inside, delighted that his gasp is as loud as mine.
“Lila,” he murmurs. “Need you.”
It’s a good sort of overwhelmed that I feel, hearing that—the elation of knowing he needs me, that he wants me—threatening to fill me up to the point of bursting. Even more so than I know he’s about to. He’s still holding his cock with one hand, but the other wanders, teasing the soft curves of my belly and the supple skin of my thigh until every inch of me feels like one big nerve, oversensitized to the point of almost being too much.
“Watch me,” I tell him, reaching between us to brush my fingers against his. I take over holding him steady, catching his gaze as I notch him right where I want him. “Watch.”
And he does—eyes fixed on the place where he slowly starts to slip inside—the delicious stretch of him filling me, causing me to clench around him involuntarily as a ragged breath falls out of my mouth. I take him inch by inch until I can feel the soft hair of his massive thighs against my ass, supporting my weight, and I can’t help but circle my hips experimentally, just feeling him.
Ian’s head tips back then, his lips parting. “Fuck.”
“Mm. You like?”
He grits his teeth. “You’re lucky I haven’t come already.”
