Bare It All
Page 92

 Lori Foster

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“Tell me if I do this wrong.”
Not possible, because anything she did at this point would only add to the growing sexual tension. But he nodded.
She worked the rubber onto him—and, yes, that tormented him in wonderful ways. As soon as she had that done, she straddled his hips. “Reese?”
God, she looked amazing poised over him like that. Urgent breaths lifted her br**sts and left her ni**les darkly flushed and puckered tight. Excitement pulled her belly taut. She bit her bottom lip as she searched his face.
“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me what you want.”
Instead, she took his hand and carried it to her body—right between her legs. Her head tipped back the second his fingers brushed over her damp curls, then lower, where he found her hot and slippery.
Ready—but not quite enough.
He pressed his middle finger barely into her, testing her, teasing the slick, swollen lips, then used her own wetness to glide that fingertip over her clitoris.
Whimpering, she clenched her legs around his.
With his other hand, Reese stroked her br**sts. “You are so damn beautiful, Alice.”
Even now, lost in the carnality of the moment, she shook her head, denying that. “I’m just...me.”
I love who you are. Reese kept the words to himself and instead censored that thought to make it more acceptable to the moment. “You’re rare. And genuine. And, yes, Alice, beautiful.” He caught one nipple, rolling it gently, tugging carefully, insistently, until she groaned. “Especially now, like this.”
That seemed to bring her around. Eyes heavy, she moved his hands away and instead scooted up over him. “I want you inside me.” She flexed her legs, lifting up to arrange him for entry. “Now.” And with that, she eased down over him.
Tight. Slick. He throbbed as she worked the head in, stretching around him. Lips parted, she paused.
Putting his hands on her taut thighs, Reese whispered, “It’s deep this way, Alice. Tell me if I hurt you.”
She nodded—and took more of him, her breath catching with every inch that went deeper.
Apprehension trembled through her as she tried to adjust to his size.
Reese didn’t mean to, but his hands contracted on her soft flesh, keeping her from retreating again. “How does that feel, honey?”
She sucked in two fast breaths, pressed down more, and said on a moan, “Wonderful.”
Nothing could be more of a turn-on, Reese thought, than watching Alice as she took him, seeing how she enjoyed the snug fit despite any discomfort she felt.
Still on her knees, she stopped short from taking all of him, her head down, her hands braced on his chest.
God, he needed her to move. He could feel her body clasping him, squeezing in little spasms; he felt her wetness and her heat.
“Reese?”
Sliding his hands down to her knees, he opened her legs wider so he could better see where they joined. Voice rough and deep, he ordered, “More, Alice.”
Almost as if she couldn’t help herself, she rocked once, then stopped. “Not...just yet.”
Reese groaned.
And she asked in the softest of whispers, “How do you feel about me?”
He swallowed hard, doing everything he could to resist the urge to thrust up into her. She was so slight in comparison to his height and weight and bone structure that he could easily hurt her without meaning to, and he’d die before doing that.
This was her turn, and he’d give that to her no matter how difficult it might be on him.
She did another single slide of her hips before pressing down enough that they both gasped.
His c**k swelled more, and he felt on the verge of exploding.
Breathy, strained, she asked again, “How do you feel about me?”
“You’re killing me here, Alice.”
“You want me?”
“Yes.” More than that, he needed her. Not just now. Not just for the physical release. But for...everything. A scary thought, one he tried to abolish by saying, “Ride me, honey.”
“Yes.” She lifted, sank down again, taking a little more of him.
Almost there, almost buried inside  her.
“As soon as you tell me how you feel.”
It stunned Reese, but he finally caught on to her game. She was turning things around on him, using sex to get the answers she wanted.
Answers about his emotional commitment.
Admiration hit him first, followed by sultry acceptance. His heart thundered in his chest, and with every fiber of his being, he was aware of their connection, of the clasp of her body holding him so tightly and her hungry gaze watching for his reaction.
And still he wanted to see how far she’d take it. “I think you’re incredible.” He cupped a breast, plied her stiffened nipple with his thumb. “Now, ride me.”
As he said that, he lifted up a little, and she gasped. He rocked up again, slowly, giving her his entire length by degrees.
Eyes closed, body accepting, she whispered, “Are you interested in more than...sex?”
While continuing those easy, shallow thrusts, he used both hands to play with her ni**les. “With you, yes.”
She groaned, gasped. “More than...ah! More than just...now?”
Now, tomorrow, next week and next month. “Yes.” He lifted harder, sank deeper. Release beckoned, boiling closer to the surface.
“Maybe...” She gasped, cried out, closed her hands over his, pressing his hands into her br**sts. “Maybe commitment?”