Page 31 of Come in with the Rain
He groans into my mouth, and the sound is such a fucking turn-on that I grind my pelvis against his, feeling him grow beneath his jeans even as I go wet and slippery between my legs. The pajama pants I changed into are so thin, I can feel everything. One of his hands comes up slowly to cup my breast, fingers running along my nipple over and over until I reach up to tear at my clothes. I want his hands on my bare skin, his mouth too. I don’t manage to get my shirt off.
“Wait,” he says against my lips, and then he’s taking those lips, red and swollen and sloppy, away from me. “Wait, wait, wait,” he says again, and my fingers stop moving.
“What’s wrong?” finally slips from my swollen mouth.
He sighs, but he’s still holding me against the door, his hard length pressed between my thighs. “Listen, I…” He looks away from me, down at where our zippers are pressed together, and his jaw goes tight. Like he’s conducting an experiment, he bucks his hips against mine, and I claw at him. Holy God, he’s so hard, and I want him inside me so bad.
“What is it?” I whine, wanting him to spit it out so we can get back to the part where he’s going to fuck me against this door.
“I’m not very experienced.” The words seem to tumble out of him with his eyes still down, looking everywhere but at me.
My body cools a little. “Okay…” I say. I’m holding onto his arms, feeling the strain of his muscles as he holds onto me. “That’s okay.” I don’t care whether or not he’s experienced, as long as he wants to do this with me. I am, however, surprised. Adam is so sexy. He’s over six feet, has kind eyes, a magnificent laugh, and muscles the size of my head. Am I supposed to believe that women aren’t literally begging to be fucked by him? Seems unlikely.
Adam repositions, his hands going to my ass to hike me higher, and his cock bumps against my clit. I gasp, trying hard to focus on the discussion at hand but feeling a little like I’m going to shake into a million pieces.
“I was with one woman for a long time,” he chokes out, his eyes on my chest, where my nipples are standing up tight behind my shirt. No bra. “We were high school sweethearts, and we lost our virginities together. She dumped me while I was overseas, and since then, there’s only been one other person, in the back seat of my truck. It wasn’t exactly a transformative experience.”
I grab his face in both hands and make his blue eyes meet mine. “Adam, do you want to have sex with me?”
His cheeks go pink, and he nods.
“Okay then.”
I expect him to come back to me, to press his mouth to mine and let his nerves or insecurities vanish, but instead, his mouth twists with worry and he says, “I want to make you scream. But I might need a little help.”
I don’t know the right thing to say, the exact wording so that he knows how perfect everything he just said was. And how perfect the way he’s looking at me is, with this question in his eyes like I might change my mind now that I know all of this about him.
I lean forward and take his mouth. His arms go like steel around me, and he pulls me away from the door, marching a few feet to the kitchen island and setting me down there.
“So, about thekeeping it professionalstuff,” I say as he kisses and licks his way down my neck, sucking lightly at the hollow of my throat.
He pulls back, his eyes no longer the light blue of a summer sky but the dark blue of stormy midnight. One corner of his mouth lifts up. “You want me to stop?”
I tug at the hem of his shirt, slipping my hands underneath to touch the warm skin of his muscular belly. I scrape my nails down to his belt buckle and watch him shiver. “If you stop, I might burst.”
He smirks, the cockiest expression I’ve ever seen on his face, and then yanks his shirt off over his head.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” I saw him with his shirt off the night I stayed at his place, but it was dark and I was much more concerned with calming him down than getting a good look at him. I’m getting a good look now, all muscle and hair and a Marines tattoo on his left bicep. His dog tags dangle below his throat.
He pulls me to the edge of the island, and his head dips low as he pushes up my shirt and swipes his tongue across my nipple. It goes almost painfully hard, and a wrinkle appears between Adam’s eyebrows, like he’s studying for a test, and then he leans forward and does it again. “Is this okay?” he asks around my wet, puckered skin.
“Suck,” I whisper, and his eyes go black before he attaches his mouth to my breast and pulls at it hard with his lips. “Fuck,” I shout and grip the edges of the counter. This seems to excite Adam even more, and he groans as he moves to the other breast, exposing it to the cold air before pushing it up with one of his huge hands and giving it the same treatment.
My chest looks like a strawberry patch, all flushed with desire, and I’ve got my hands buried in his hair when I say, “Will you put your mouth on me?” Maybe it’s too soon to ask. This is all going really fast, but I feel like we’ve had weeks of foreplay, so much time to get worked up over each other, and having his mouth everywhere but the spot between my legs that is positively weeping with need is killing me.
I track the moment it takes for him to figure out what I mean before he lets go of my nipple with a wetpopand says, “It would be my genuine pleasure.”
This whole time, he’s been bent at a ninety-degree angle to get to me, but now he drops to his knees, and I whimper just watching him. He helps me shimmy out of my pants and then runs his big, calloused hands up my thighs to grip my underwear and slide it down my legs.
“God,” he whispers. “You are…” He never finishes his sentence, but it’s entirely unnecessary because a moment later, his tongue swipes up the center of me, and my back hits the counter. “Good?” he asks, but I can’t respond, can only grab a fistful of his hair and guide him back to where I want him.
He licks a stripe across my skin a few times and then he stops. When I look down at him, feeling desperate and achy, he’s looking at the space between my legs like it’s a painting in a gallery to be examined and interpreted. His eyes meet mine, and he settles one big finger right over my clit. “Right here?”
I’m panting, and when I nod, he spreads my lips with his fingers, hesitates, and then closes his mouth over my clit. He gives it a hard suck the way he did my nipple, and I jerk.
“Wait,” I say, squirming away. His confused eyes find mine, and he sits back on his heels, like he might never touch me again if I tell him right now that I want to stop. I give him a reassuring smile. “It’s just a bit much,” I say gently. “Tongue first.”
He nods and waits for me to spread my legs again. I wonder, briefly, about the other person he was with for so long, if he ever did this for her, if all the knowledge he has of sexual technique is all tailored to her enjoyment. The thought is almost enough to make me move away from him again, but then his hands slide up my thighs and settle on my bare hips, and the weight and warmth of him there is so good, so comforting and intimate, that I sigh as he puts his mouth back on me.
