Page 89 of Out of Bounds
I want him. I wantthis.
“Annie, what are you doing to me?” he says, voice deep, rough and quiet, as if he’s speaking to himself but he’s looking at me, into me, liquidizing me with the blaze I know is inside us both.
He brings the feathers to my face, forcing my eyes to close and when they do, I picture him. His soft touch, the kiss of his skin against my cheeks, the slickness of his tongue against my sweetest spot.
I lick my lips where I want to tastehim. His breath hitches above the quiet sound of music and the gentle hum of the electric fire.
He moves over me without making contact, knees either side of me as I slip my legs between his thighs, wishing they were on me. The feathers trail down my cheek, my neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake, the fine hairs of my arms standing on end.
This is insane. I know it even as my body reacts so fiercely to Tanner’s nearness, but it feels too good to question. So I keep my eyes shut as he traces the line of my collarbone, the sensitivity making me press my head back into the cushions. As I do, his freshly showered scent seems stronger, darker, more decadent than ever. A heady concoction that consumes my sense of smell.
I want to reach out to touch him but he’s not doing the same, so as the music in the background intensifies, and with the sensation of him sliding the feathers like silk over my top, puckering my breasts beneath, my fingers find the hem of my shirt.
I’m not sure if it’s my breath or his that hitches as I lift my body enough to take off the garment and bare my chest to him. I briefly open my eyes, pulling myself from the reverie of whatever is happening here because I’m throwing myself at him, I know it, and I oughtn’t to be.
I’ve done this before and it ended catastrophically.
My cheeks flame under his watchful gaze and I swallow deeply, afraid that this will end here, again. And when nothing comes of it after the ecstasy has subsided, I’ll feel like I did in Dallas.
But he looks over my body, pausing on my breasts and digging his teeth into his lips. “You’re fucking perfect, Annie.”
Then he drops his head back and squeezes his eyes shut again, fighting this, still. But what I saw, what I heard, makes me braver, more confident.
I lie back into the soft cushions and wait for his next move, almost squirming with the anticipation of it.
Then it comes. The feathers, not him, but the grace and lightness of his stroke around my breasts and finally across the nipple drives a wild sensation between my legs.
He repeats the same move on my other breast, then draws the feathers down my stomach. South… south… further down.
I’m tentative in the move but too far gone to stop myself as I push my shorts and panties over my hips, rolling them down my legs.
His focus is laser sharp and fixed on mine. Groaning in a way that makes me as hot for him as when he was eating me out, he slips the feathers where my underwear was and drops one foot to the floor, as if he knows I need to spread my own wider.
Then the feathers touch the most sensitive part of my body and expunge the air from my lungs.
“Tanner,” I whisper and draw a ragged breath, twisting my body on the sofa, desperate to touch him, hold him, feel him, on me, over me, inside me.
“Don’t say my name like that, Annie, I’m begging you.”
I hear the words but they don’t register because I’m on the edge, the precipice of white light, and he hasn’t even touched me with his hands, or his mouth.
“Have sex with me, Tanner.”
“Don’t ask me to do that, Annie.Fuck.” He growls and the restraint he’s showing, the thought of what I know he can do with his tongue and the havoc he could wreak on me if he’d only give in to us, is enough to tip me over the edge.
He’s muttering something about lines and crossing but bright spots burst into the darkness of my closed eyes. My hands reach out for something to hold, nails digging into the softness of the sofa and the thick, hard muscle of Tanner’s thigh as my hips buck out of rhythm and his name leaves my mouth with a round of expletives.
“Tanner, please. Please take me there.”
My sense of balance, place, spatial awareness are gone. I could be anywhere, flying, soaring with him. It’s light and intense, it’s cool in its blaze, it’s passion and compassion, embarrassment and sheer unadulterated bliss.
In the moment of my climax, he’s everything to me. Making mefeeleverything, all at once.
“Jesus, Annie.Fuck.”
I open my eyes to see him sitting back on the sofa, his neck taut as his head digs into the back cushion, one hand in his hair and over his face, the part of his anatomy I’ve been craving rock solid, his other hand pressing down onto it.
I kneel up. “Let me finish you.”
