Page 42 of Under His Protection
“You can recover that fast? I thought it took a while.”
He chuckles. “I can where you’re concerned. And if for some reason I couldn’t get it up again that quickly, I still have my fingers and my mouth.”
“Oh.”
I walk toward him, and he meets me halfway. He’s wearing only a pair of black boxer-briefs.
“I’m sorry,” he says as he cups my face. “I could have handled that better. I just didn’t expect it to be so—” He falters, suddenly at a loss for words.
“What?”
“So damn good.”
With a smile, I release my towel, and it drops to my feet.
For the second time today, Philip stares at my naked body. “Hale.”
“We don’t have to go all the way, right? I mean, you said you have your fingers and mouth. We could—”
“Oh, my God.” Shaking his head, he scoops me into his arms and sits me down at the foot of his bed. “You’re right.” He kneels in front of me. “It would be very ungentlemanly of me to have an orgasm when you haven’t.”
I’m stunned because I didn’t actually think this would work, but I run with it. I shake my head. “Very rude, in fact.” My pulse takes off, and my heart shoots up into my throat.
He’s so tall that kneeling puts him nearly at face level with me. He cups my cheeks and gazes into my eyes. I breathe in his scent—warm, wet male skin, his soap and shampoo. His damp hair is going every which way, so I start finger combing it into some semblance of order.
He groans and suddenly he’s kissing me. It’s a hungry kiss, almost frantic. He’s never kissed me like this before. His tongue finds mine, stroking it and teasing.
Finally, he pulls back. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I wantyou. I want you to know that.”
I nod. I know he’s had previous girlfriends.
“Do you trust me?” he asks as he grasps my knees with his warm hands and gently pushes them apart, spreading my thighs.
“Of course, I do.”
“Then lie back and relax. Trust me to make you feel good.”
My stomach drops, and my head is spinning like I’m on a tilt-a-whirl.
He presses his palm to the center of my chest and gently eases me back. As he moves in close, his wide shoulders nudge my thighs apart.
I’m so incredibly exposed, a shiver of anticipation mixed with trepidation runs through me. It’s overwhelming and a bit mortifying that he’s looking at me down there, so I close my eyes.
I feel his fingers between my legs, gently spreading my lips open. He proceeds slowly, as if he’s giving me time to adjust.
My belly quivers, and my thighs start shaking. When I feel his warm breath between my legs, I tense.
He pulls back and runs his hands up and down my thighs. “It’s okay. Just relax.”
“I’m trying. This is—”
“I know, baby.” He chuckles softly, and a moment later, his tongue touches me.
I can’t help crying out. I’ve touched myself before, of course. Many times. But it’s different when someone else is doing it.
He grasps my ankles and puts them up on the mattress before he spreads my legs farther apart. He leans in close and, a heartbeat later, the tip of his tongue gently flicks my clitoris before it starts drawing slow circles around it. He doesn’t seem to be in any hurry as he laps at my clit.
Tingles race up my spine, and suddenly I feel warm all over. My heart is pounding, and my breasts feel fuller. They’reaching, as if there’s a connection between my pussy and my breasts. No one ever mentionedthatin sex ed class.
