Promised
Page 47

I’m working up into a comfortable rhythm, his moans of pleasure encouraging me as my hand roams freely, feeling his chest, his thighs, his stomach.
‘Livy, stop now.’ His stomach muscles tense as he rises into a sitting position, his knees rising too, and dropping outwards, leaving me kneeling between his spread legs, my head in his lap. ‘Stop.’ His hands are in my hair, gently guiding me up and down slowly, patiently. He’s telling me to stop, but seeming to encourage me too. ‘Oh, Jesus,’ he chokes as I feel one hand leave my head, feeling the zip of my dress being slowly drawn down my spine. ‘Lift up,’ he says, pulling at the hem of my dress.
Feeling a little cheated, I do as I’m told and drop him from my mouth, lifting my backside from the backs of my feet and my hands into the air. My dress is pulled up as I look down at him, loving the mess of his hair, all falling freely, the waves enhanced from his sexed-up state. He disappears from sight for just a few seconds while he gets my dress past my face before throwing it carelessly on the floor and reaching around my back to unfasten my bra. He slowly drags it down my arms and drops it before taking my h*ps gently and leaning forward to place his lips on my stomach. Reaching down, I start to push his shirt from his shoulders, keen to get him fully na**d and feel all of him, and he obliges, releasing one hand from my body at a time to allow the removal of his remaining clothes, but keeping his mouth on my stomach, nibbling lazily across to my hip.
‘Your skin is exquisite, Livy.’ His voice is rough and low. ‘You are exquisite.’
My hands find his hair, and I look down at the back of his head as he takes his time working his mouth all over my navel. As always, it’s slow, soft and precise, making my body hum and my eyes close dreamily. Nothing about our intimacies suggests that this is just sex – not one thing. I may not be au fait with sexual relationships, but I know this is more than sex. This has to be more than sex.
I’m happy enough to kneel in front of his sitting body and let him indulge himself for as long as he likes. His hands are everywhere, cupping my bottom, trailing delicately up my spine and drifting down to the backs of my thighs. I feel his thumbs slip into the sides of my knickers and tug, pulling them down until they’re at my knees, unable to go any further. Dropping my head and opening my eyes, I find him looking up at me. His eyes are screaming desire as he lazily blinks, like his dark lashes are too heavy and it’s an effort to reopen them.
‘How about I lock the door and we stay here for ever?’ he suggests on a low murmur, encouraging me to shift one leg at a time to allow him to remove my knickers. ‘Forget about the world outside those doors and stay here with me.’
I settle back down on my knees, my bum resting on my heels. ‘For ever would be much longer than one night.’
His lips twitch and he extends his hand, rubbing his thumb across my nipple. I look down, reminding myself of my lack of br**sts, not that he seems at all bothered. ‘So it would,’ he muses, keeping his focus on his thumb circling the dark rim around my hard nub. ‘It was a stupid deal.’
My heart skips too many beats, my spirits lifting to crazy heights. ‘We didn’t shake on it,’ I remind him. ‘And we definitely haven’t f**ked on it.’
He sends me dizzy when he smiles at my breast, and then lifts his blue gaze to mine. ‘I concur.’ He reaches up and pulls me down so we’re nose to nose. I’m powerless to prevent the small smile plaguing my lips as a result of those words and the look on his face. ‘I don’t think you’re quite broken in enough yet.’
‘I concur.’ My smile widens. We both know that I am more than broken in. This is an implicit, mutual acknowledgement and agreement. He wants me for longer, just as much as I want him. We have both been taken aback by this fascination. ‘Will you break me in some more now?’ I ask innocently, lifting and unfolding my legs, putting myself in his lap.
He helps me, guiding my legs around his back before holding my bum in his palms and pulling me in. ‘I think I’m under obligation to do so.’ He pecks my lips. ‘And I always fulfil my obligations, Olivia Taylor.’
‘Good,’ I breathe, homing in on his lips and lacing my fingers together behind his neck.
‘Hmmm,’ he sighs, swinging his legs off the couch and standing, cradling me against his body like I’m nothing more than a feather. He paces to his bedroom, and when we enter, he takes me straight to his bed and kneels on the end, walking on his knees to the top before turning and resting his back against the headboard, me on his lap.
He leans over and opens the top drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a condom and handing it to me. ‘Put this on me.’
I hate myself for stiffening on his lap. I don’t have the first idea of how to go about putting one on. ‘It’s okay, you can do it.’ I try to look unbothered, rather than scared.
‘But I want you to.’ He pushes me further down his lap, exposing his rigid length and taking hold of it, standing it vertical from his body before handing the foil packet to me. ‘Take it.’
I look at him and he nods reassuringly, so I tentatively reach forward and take it from him.
‘Open,’ he orders. ‘Rest it on top and roll it down gently.’
My hesitance is obvious as I carefully rip the packet open and slide the condom out, fiddling with it in my fingers. Having a silent, stern word with myself, I take a deep breath and follow his instructions, resting the loop over the broad head of his erection.
‘Hold the tip,’ he breathes, lying back and watching intently.
Taking the end between my finger and thumb, I use my other hand to roll the condom down his length until I can roll no more. Again, I’m annoyed at having to conceal him.
‘Nothing to it.’ He smiles up at my concentrating face and pulls me back onto his lap, so far forward that he can raise his knees a little behind me. I’m encouraged to lift up and he takes his arousal to my opening, both of us panting as I lower down. I’m thrown straight into utter ecstasy, immediately holding my breath and pushing my palms into his shoulders.
I whimper as he bucks within me. I’m on top, and I know movement will only happen when I instigate it, but I can’t move yet. I’m completely filled, but then his legs straighten out and he goes deeper. ‘Oh my God!’ I gasp, my arms going straight and rigid against him, my chin dropping to my chest.
‘You’re in control, Livy,’ he breathes. ‘If it hurts, ease up.’
‘It doesn’t hurt.’ I circle my h*ps to demonstrate. ‘Holy shit!’ I’m bombarded by scorching hot shots of pleasure, the friction rubbing my most sensitive spot just right. It prompts me to circle again. ‘It feels good.’ My arms relax and my grip shifts to his face, encasing his cheeks in my palms as I rotate my h*ps around and around, again and again.
I’m urged forward, our foreheads meeting, the passion from both of our eyes colliding. ‘This must be heaven,’ he whispers. ‘There’s no other explanation. Pinch me.’
I don’t pinch him. I lift up and ease down on a firm grind instead, making damn sure he knows that I’m real. My determination is boosting my confidence. The pressure of him filling me is sending me out of my mind, taking me to pleasurable places that I never realised existed. He does this to me, and judging by the constant moans seeping from those lips, I do it to him, too. I pull back, still circling, still grinding, so I can see his face in its entirety. His hair is everywhere, the wayward locks wet on his forehead, the soft curls on his nape flicking out, defined by the dampness. I love it.