Page 73 of The Fire Captain's Unexpected Baby
I scoop a bite of tiramisu onto his collarbone and take my time licking and sucking it off to a loud moan.
“Paige, I need you to lie down right here on the table,” he commands.
I like it when a man takes control, so I climb the rest of the way up with anticipation. I lean back and stretch my arms over my head.
“Oh mygod, you’re incredible,” Aaron breathes.
He runs light fingertips from my cheek all the way down to my knee, relishing every curve along the way. Every caress makes me more breathless.
He spoons the tiramisu on the mounds of my breasts, pushed up by the slinky fabric of the negligee. He smears a bit on my thighs, right beneath the hem. The cool dessert pairs with the heat of my flushed skin.
It’s nothing until he leans in and starts to lick it.
Aaron starts with the tiramisu on my breast, swirling the cream around with his tongue and sucking the delicate skin to makesure he leaves nothing behind. Purple blooms when he releases the skin, but I couldn’t care less.
Unable to help himself, he tugs down the lacy triangle until my nipple is visible, hard for him already.
“You mind if I taste something a little different?” His voice is husky, and it vibrates through me.
The only thing I can do in response is arch my back until he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth. He sucks hard, and stars fill my vision. I don’t even want to know what kind of sound I made.
“Pace yourself,” he teases. “We haven’t even made it to the tiramisu on your thighs.”
He takes his time moving down my body until his mouth lands on the hem of the negligee. He lifts it, revealing the G-string beneath. It doesn’t take much to see that his eyes light up.
“All this soaked silk,” he murmurs. “We’ll have to rectify that soon.” He swipes the dessert off my skin with a practiced tongue.
Then, he pulls me to the edge of the dining table so that he can yank off the G-string. Satisfied that not a single thing stands between us, he sinks to his knees in front of me.
The way he moves is so infuriatingly slow, one kiss on my thighs at a time. Eventually, I lose patience, grab him by the back of the head, and place his tongue right where I want it. He laughs butobliges me, circling my already swollen clit with gentle pressure. Then he moves lower.
He licks from my entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top, lapping up all the mess I’ve made for him. My cries become more frantic. If I grip the edge of the table any harder, I’m going to leave it in splinters.
Suddenly, he pulls back.
“Please,” I beg.
“Not time for you to come yet,” he says, undoing his belt and freeing himself from his boxers. “Get up from the table.”
The last thing I want to do is leave this spot where he had given me so much pleasure. I was hoping for a repeat. Instead, he turns me to face the table, presses my hands into the wood, and pushes me down.
I hear a foil wrapper tearing. The only thing I can do is stand here, vulnerable, waiting for him to have me however he wants.
“You ready for this, baby?” he asks softly in my ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin. In response, I arch my back and press my ass into him. “It might hurt for a second.”
And then he pushes deep inside of me until he’s buried to the hilt. He moves extra slow, taking his time to warm me up and let me adjust to his size.
I melt into his touch and relax, his cue to move deeper and faster. He pulls out almost all the way and then pushes back in just as deeply as before. It elicits a loud moan from me, and I can only hope that my son is a sound sleeper.
“Keep quiet,” he admonishes me. “Or I’ll have to cover your mouth again, remember?”
Last time we had shower sex with Noah at home, hedidhave to keep me quiet. This all just feels like too much pleasure, too much everything to keep inside, but I do my best.
“Good girl,” he says when I remain quiet for a few thrusts. “I would much rather dothiswith my hand.”
With that, he reaches between us and places a single finger on my sensitive clit. He traces gentle, lazy circles around it while he thrusts so deep inside of me that I can barely stand.
A minute passes, then two. My knees become so weak that they can’t support me, and I tremble.
