Page 98 of Bourbon Kingdom
She wiggled on top of me just enough so our bodies were directly in line with each other and her hands never left my face as she deepened our kiss. Every instinct in my body wanted to push her off of me and into the mattress, to take over the intimate moment, but I held back, I allowed her to control the situation, something that was entirely new to me, but worth it if it meant I had my little one in my arms.
Sadly, she pulled away and stared down at me, her eyes searching mine for some kind of indication of what just happened, what she was doing on top of me. The moment she realized what she was doing, she quickly tried to retreat, but I stopped her, I couldn’t help it, I wanted to have her warmth spread across me for a few moments longer.
“Please, don’t go,” I asked. “You don’t have to kiss me, but please just let me feel your skin on mine for a moment longer.”
With understanding, she nodded and rested her head on my chest, while her fingers lightly stroked the spot above my heart. My hand found her hair and played with the silky strands while we held each other, our breathing falling in step with each other.
“Thank you,” I whispered, grateful for the moment she was granting me.
Not saying a word, she continued to stroke the spot above my heart, letting me know she was there for me and, hopefully, she wasn’t leaving.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“My Heart is Open”
GOLDIE
Yup, I was seconds away from fucking the man I was laying on top of. My legs quivered as I tried to keep them from straddling him and taking what I wanted.
Did he really think he could get away with telling me that story about his mom and not get fucked? I mean, damn, my heart ripped right out of my chest for his mom, for the little boy who deserved his mom, who deserved the love he would have gotten from her.
I needed to touch him, to show him how much he’s loved, to show him what an amazing man he was, a man he didn’t believe he was himself. The only way I knew how to do that was to kiss every inch of him, to show him with my body that he was loved, that he was cherished, but I’d told myself I wasn’t going to have sex with him.
I couldn’t.
What kind of woman would that make me look like? A hussy, that was for damn sure, but fuck, he was too damn sexy. The moment he stripped down to his briefs, I knew I was in trouble. I was pretty sure that since we’d been apart, he’d become more ripped and more defined. I’d never been able to truly resist him, and now with this whole sensitive side of him showing . . . I was so fucking gone.
His need to feel my skin touch his was something he’s needed from the very beginning, and I know it’s because he feels the closest when our bodies are touching so intimately, but right now, all it was doing was turning me on even more.
I was a sexual being, and not being able to ride the fucking bologna pony to pleasure town was torture; it actually made it hard for me to breathe.
Did I say hard to breathe? No, I meant it made it hard to keep my finger out of my vagina.
Fuck, I was so horny, and being on top of Jett, with his hand stroking my hair and him just breathing me in had my pussy wetter than a fucking typhoon blowing up a flesh valley. My hip would occasionally rub against his, and I could feel his hardness, his beautiful cock against my thigh. What I wouldn’t give to see that cock right now, to feel it in my hands, to torture him with my fingers, with my tongue.
It would be so easy, I would just start lightly grazing him, letting him know that, yeah, I was interested. Maybe tease him a little by wrapping my fingers all the way around his cock, but then pulling away to keep him on his toes. But, fuck, I couldn’t pull away for too long, because I wouldn’t be able to stay away. So, I would return, but this time, I would apply more pressure, running my fingers along the veins that would be now showing from how turned on he was. I would . . .
“Goldie,” he whispered in a strained voice. “What are you doing?”
“Laying here, what are you doing?” I asked, confused as to why all of a sudden his body was stiff.
“I’m wondering why your fingers are wrapped around my cock.”
Testing my left hand, I felt it under my body out of the danger zone, but when I went to locate my right hand, I found it under Jett’s briefs, squeezing his cock.
“Jesus,” I muttered, as I pulled my hand away and reprimanded my rogue appendage for misbehaving. “Umm, just making sure you still had a dick. It’s been some time, you know, just wanted to make sure things didn’t fall off,” I mumbled, as I scooted off of him and back to my side of the bed.
Skin on skin contact was a bad idea. No, it was the worst idea in the world because right now, every last inch of me was tingling, my hands were itching to go back into the dark cave of Jett’s briefs, to test his cock one more time, to see if it was just as hard as I thought it was.
Instead of turning toward him, I flipped on my back and stared at the ceiling, waiting for him to say something. He shifted on the bed and drew closer; he knew exactly what he was doing, he was enticing me, trying to get me to crack.
It was working.
He smelled so good, like he’d taken a two-hour bath in pheromones and forgotten to dry off. The urge to hump his leg, to drool all over his chest, to stuff his cock in every orifice I had, including my belly button, was overpowering. Something was going to happen; the pull was too strong. I needed something from him, a little touch, a little taste. My pussy was begging for it.
“Can you not be so close to me?” I snapped, while I pulled on the blankets and wrapped them up around my chin to try to block the delicious smell of the man and keep a protective blanket layer between us. I practically swaddled myself to keep from having any more villainous hand expeditions.
Fucking phalanges, can’t trust them, can’t live without them.
