Page 18 of Another Last Call
That wicked smirk flitted across his lips again. “Good.”
Much to my disappointment, he withdrew his hand from my bra. Pressing another kiss to the tops of my breasts, he brought his hands to the hem of my shirt again. His head followed, and as he lifted the shirt up, he put his lips on my stomach. His removal of my shirt was agonizingly slow, and the movement of his lips as it followed even more so.
Inch by inch, he revealed my torso, making sure his lips didn’t miss a single spot of skin. Once the shirt was finally over my head and his lips were back on mine, a hand slid behind me and fiddled with the clasp on my bra. I let him struggle for a few moments before shifting so I could twist my arm behind me and unhook it with a quick snap, grinning as he shook his head.
“Never quite got the hang of those,” he said.
Not that it mattered, because he certainly had the hang of removing it once it was unclasped. As soon as it was off, he pulled back again, still holding my bra in his hands.
I expected him to ask if I was still okay, but he didn’t say anything. Laying there, topless in my jeans, I watched as his eyes devoured my body. He shamelessly stared at my breasts, taking in the hardness of my nipples, eyes roaming over every curve, every freckle.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Fuck no,” he replied. “Just trying to commit this view to memory.”
“Better than last time?”
“That’s a loaded fucking question, and you know it.”
I laughed and he grinned, unceremoniously dropping my bra beside my bed before returning his attention to my body by way of his mouth. Again he kissed me, and again he touched my breasts, and again his lips moved down my chest as he kissed and sucked everything except my nipples.
Somehow, the absence of touch was just as erotic with Caleb. My breath started coming faster as my nipples ached for the attention he wasn’t willing to give. Instead, he continued to tease me, his fingers mimicking the pattern his mouth was making.
“Caleb, please,” I whimpered.
“What?” he asked innocently.
I glared at him, which he caught as he glanced up at me. “Don’t make me beg.”
He held my gaze, his eyes sparkling and his lips parted.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he said, and in one swift movement, he latched his mouth onto my left nipple.
Eleven
Maggie
Myheadtiltedbackof its own volition as Caleb sucked on my nipple.
A relieved moan escaped my lips and my eyes fluttered shut, my fingers moving to Caleb’s head. He sucked and licked the hard little nub, making relief battle with longing as his tongue circled it and made me crave more and more.
Once he’d had his fill of that side, he kissed his way to my right breast and repeated the actions there. This time when he finished, he nibbled on my nipple, tugging it between his teeth. He didn’t bite hard—the pressure was no more than a firm pinch—but paired with the wetness of his mouth, it made me cry out and thrust my breasts into his face, eager for more of his attention.
And he gave it, willingly and eagerly and thoroughly.
Back and forth he went, like he was comparing each side and deciding which was his favourite. Each little ministration added to the hollow, insistent desire in the pit of my stomach. Wriggling again beneath him, I searched for some sort of friction to relieve the need between my legs.
“Be patient,” Caleb muttered, his lips brushing my nipple as he spoke.
“Easy for you to say,” I gasped. “You have no idea how this feels.”
Caleb pulled back again, sitting up and raising an eyebrow at me.
“Is that so?” His hand moved to my wrist and, grasping it lightly, he guided it to the bulge in his jeans. “I have no idea?”
According to his dick, he may have hadsomeidea.
I licked my lips as I touched his hard cock through the rough denim of his jeans. Moving my hand back and forth, I watched Caleb’s eyes flutter closed, relief written across his face as he indulged in the feeling. He was still covering the back of my hand with his palm, holding me in place as I rubbed him, and I relished in the sudden shift of power I’d created.
