Page 42 of Wild and Wanted

‘Like this?’

Clay’s other fingers joined in, brushing lightly down the front of her shirt from neckline to the hemline then back up again, dragging over the hard bumps of her nipples as they went back and forth, back and forth. She gasped at each pass, her mouth parting, her back arching at the stimulus.

‘Like this?’ he repeated.

‘Yes,’ she said on a tiny pant. ‘But… it didn’t… it didn’t feel like that.’

Clay smiled triumphantly. He didn’t have to ask to know that his touch felt better. ‘Is it okay?’

She nodded vigorously. ‘God yes,’ she breathed out on a half laugh.

‘What about this?’

Clay’s hand slid from the last button of her shirt, heading south, traversing the bare strip of her belly, down the bumpy buttons of her fly to the seam of her jeans nestled snug between her legs. ‘Is this okay?’

She bucked against the trace of his index finger as he brushed slowly along the seam, back and forth, her breath hitching with each pass. ‘Yes,’ she panted.

Her bent knees fell apart and he smiled at how eager she was. His gaze locked with hers. ‘Do you ever touch yourself here?’

Her hips shifted as Clay kept up the rhythm. ‘I have,’ she admitted with surprising frankness. He’d thought she might demur and the fact she hadn’t told him she was over her shyness or just too turned on to object. ‘But not often.’

‘You don’t like it?’

‘It feels good at the time but…’ She moaned and arched her back as Clay’s finger exerted a little more pressure along the seam. ‘I just feel… lonely after.’

Clay nodded. Solo sexual gratification was a transitory pleasure but he could guarantee she wouldn’t feel lonely after she’d come for him.

‘Does this feel good?’ he asked, watching her face flush and her mouth part as he rubbed his finger along the seam a little firmer, her hips rising to meet the stroke of his finger as if seeking more pressure.

‘Uh huh,’ she said on a strangled kind of whisper.

‘God, you look good,’ he muttered, taking her in, her eyes glittering with pleasure, her cheeks warm with desire, her knees spread wide, her teeth biting into her bottom lip.

‘I feel good.’

‘Can I undo your shirt?’

The thick swallow of her throat betrayed her desire more thoroughly than any words, but her quick nod was all the invitation Clay needed, pulling his hand from the seam of her jeans to that top pink button. He hadn’t planned on undoing them, he’d just wanted the thought that he might, ramping up the anticipation even further. But he was salivating at the thought of seeing her bared to him. At the thought of sucking those hard nipples into his mouth. He didn’t want to remove her shirt altogether – too much, too fast.

He just wanted a peek. A taste.

He watched her as the first button ceded easily to his questing fingers – thank fuck – popping open without effort. Stevie’s eyes widened and her breath hitched as her gaze drifted to where the fabric gaped a little and, unable to stop himself, Clay dropped a kiss on the spot of exposed flesh.

A soft whimper fell from her lips, stoking the fire in his blood, urging him on. One by one, the buttons fell open, his lips pressing more kisses until the shirt was completely open, revealing what he’d already felt – or hadn’t felt.

No bra.

With his index finger he gently pushed the fabric covering her breasts aside, exposing her to his gaze.

‘They’re… not very big,’ she said, an apology in her voice.

‘They’re perfect,’ he murmured on a rush of exhaled air. Because they were. Small and high and firm, tipped with puckered pale-pink nipples like icing rosettes on the top of a cupcake, and he bet they tasted just as sweet.

Without seeking permission this time, Clay lowered his head and sucked one tempting peak into his mouth, her cry of pleasure, the arch of her back, gratifying down to his bones. Clay felt like a fucking god. And when he’d done swirling his tongue and scraping his teeth against that one, he switched to the other, the push of her hand into his hair holding him fast, confirming she was as in to this as he.

It felt like an age when he finally roused himself from worshipping her breasts, from the addictive sounds of Stevie panting and moaning and mewling her pleasure as he licked and sucked her nipples, twisting her hands in his hair as she urged him on.

He was breathing heavy when he lifted his head to capture her gaze, which was brimming with bliss and boiling with frustration. Clay knew exactly how she felt. His still hard cock was reaching strangulation point and his balls were so blue they were practically navy.