I kiss him in response, holding on to him, my fingers threaded in his soft hair, pulling his head closer to mine.
He puts his hands underneath my dress and grips my thong-clad ass.
He breaks the kiss and looks at me. “What have we got under here?”
“What . . .? What do you mean ‘what’? My underwear.”
His hand rubs against my naked ass cheek, challenging what I said.
I roll my eyes at him and he chuckles.
I take his hand and lead it higher, to the bow on the back of my new thong.
He arches an eyebrow. “Let me see it.”
His fingers rub the satin of the bow on my ass, and I sit there and let him, looking into his eyes.
“It’s not red,” I say regretfully, suddenly wishing it were.
“Show me,” he says, rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip.
“Show you what?” I whisper, concentrating only on how hard he is between my legs and on his beautiful eyes staring at my mouth.
“Your underwear,” he says.
I laugh. “What are you, fifteen?”
He grinds me against him, reminding me that he is most definitely not fifteen, and I gulp.
He plants a kiss on my cheek before leaning back and placing his hands behind his head, apparently waiting for me to dismount him and show him my underwear.
I’m about to ask him if he’s serious but the look in his eyes stops me.
He looks like he’s about to unwrap the greatest present Santa ever gave him. Life ever gave him. He looks like a starved lion about to eat his first meal in days.
He looks like he is about to attack me.
And I am loving every second of it.
And I’m about to make him die for it.
This is why you got the underwear in the first place, Olivia . . . who cares if it’s not red? He doesn’t seem to care.
I try to pump myself up because I’m about to strip for this deliciously sexy man who is basically fucking me with his eyes right about now.
I get off his lap and hear him moan in protest.
I smirk.
I get up and walk so that I’m a couple of feet away from him.
I look him straight in the eye as I start to slowly slip off the straps of my dress.
I see him gulp.
I reach behind me with one hand and slowly draw down the zipper of my dress.
I let the dress fall so that the whole top half of my torso is exposed.
I look down and see my tight stomach, and my full breasts decorated in the black lacy bra.
I run my fingers along the edges of the bra’s cups and play with the straps, letting one fall down my shoulder. I look at Callan, and his eyes are fixed on mine. His pupils are so dilated, his eyes almost look black.
I pull down the other strap of my bra and take a step toward him.
“You still haven’t shown me what you’ve got under there . . .” Callan teases. But his eyes are serious.
“Shh, be patient,” I say.
I unzip my dress the rest of the way down and let it drop to my feet.
I hear Callan inhale sharply and I see his eyes make their way down my body. I’m left standing in my thong, my bra, and my high heels.
I hear Callan curse under his breath. He stands up and makes his way toward me, but I raise my hand to stop him and take a step back.
I unclasp my bra and let it fall down as well, the cool air that meets me making my nipples pucker, and I see Callan’s eyes flare at the sight.
“Do you like what I’ve got, Callan?” I ask.
He smirks, and takes another step toward me, to which I respond by taking another step back.
“Jesus, Olivia, let me touch you,” he growls, and takes another step forward.
I shake my head no, and take another step back, before turning away from him and bending over and taking off my high heels. I unfasten the straps and slip them off my feet, one by one, knowing each second Callan has to wait to touch me will drive him even more crazy. Also knowing Callan is enjoying a very, very nice view of my ass.
When I turn around, I see Callan basically eating me up with his eyes.
“That’s it,” he roughly whispers.
He wraps me in his arms and kisses the hell out of me. His hands all over my body. He picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist, taking me to his bed.
Finally . . .
We get there and he unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the ground. He takes off his shoes and socks and unfastens his belt, so he’s naked except for his black slacks.
He lays me down and kisses my neck, licking and sucking.
I moan and squirm under him, wanting him to take me already.
His lips find my nipple and he sucks it in his mouth, sending a tingling sensation right between my legs.
He turns his head and takes the other one in his mouth, and I moan in response.
His hand slips between my legs and I feel him tease me through my lace panties. His lips find mine and he kisses me hard and rough, his teeth nipping at my lower lip and his tongue slipping between my lips to taste. His kiss is drugging and delicious, his lips perfectly molded against mine.
His fingers keep working me through my panties and I feel like I’m going to die if he doesn’t give me more soon.
“Callan, please,” I beg.
He kisses my neck and uses his hand to pull my panties to the side before pushing a finger inside me.
I gasp and hold on to his shoulders, my nails biting into his skin as he slowly pumps his finger in and out.
“God, Olivia . . . you’re so tight,” he groans as he keeps fingering me.
I whimper and feel myself getting wetter and wetter.
I bite his neck a little. He groans low in his throat, and at the sound, need rips through me. I run my hands over his head, and his hair ends up rumpled and sexy.
I feel drunk, and naughty, and impulsive. I’ve never been the girl to just go with it, to fuck everything, but this . . . this man . . . this moment . . . this need, I cannot deny myself him. He drags his fingers down my bare abdomen and expertly teases his hand over my panties.
Oh.
God.
My hips jerk in a circle to get closer and I grip the back of his neck for balance.
“You’re so responsive. I could tease you all night and get off on watching you.” He rubs my sex lightly over my panties and leans over to nibble my lips. He kisses and nibbles my neck and continues to move his finger, making my knees weak when he knowingly passes by my clit.
I’ve never had this. Even kisses like this. I want to take every feeling apart and figure out its contents and I want to put into words how amazing it feels, and I want to forget about all that and just feel alive, intensely connected, wanted and so, so desirous. I’ve wanted things, but this wanting is more like an ache or an obsession. I can’t seem to pull apart the feeling either, or give it a word, so I don’t, and just let him finger me, half dressed at his place, panting and making noises like I’m some sex kitten.
His toned arms come around me.
He’s soon tasting my nipple again with his tongue, long, warm swipes. He moves his tongue to flick the tip in a circle around my breast. He squeezes the flesh to push my nipple deeper into his mouth, and when he has it right where he wants it, he sucks.
He stops and lifts his head and watches me, lips curled, as a fingertip circles the sensitized point of my nipple.
He hooks his thumb on the edge of my panties and pulls them down my legs. Revealing my pussy.
He grabs me by the ass and dips his head downward. “Do you know what you’re getting into?” His eyes are dilated and swirling with a combination of tenderness, desire, and heat.
His lips press to the inside of my thigh, then trail a delicious path up my abdomen. “Open your mouth and kiss me,” he says.
I arch my back and stick my tongue into his mouth even as he plunges his own in mine. He groans as he makes contact. “You as into this as I am?”
“Mmm . . .”
He ducks his head and a hungry sucking sound leaves him as he tortures the hardened, sensitized point of my nipple back in his mouth.
I cling to his shoulders, pleasure cascading through me as I start humping his hand.
“Callan . . .”
“Callan what?”
“Callan Carmichael—”
“That’s right.”
He smothers my mouth and kisses me hard again.
We’re kissing wetly and heatedly when he withdraws his finger from my tight sheath and continues brushing, grazing. I can’t breathe from the anticipation of waiting for him again. I pull my mouth free and press it against his jaw, panting against his skin. Soon I’m holding in my breath, waiting for it—for him to fill me with something, anything at this point would be good.
He puts his hands underneath my dress and grips my thong-clad ass.
He breaks the kiss and looks at me. “What have we got under here?”
“What . . .? What do you mean ‘what’? My underwear.”
His hand rubs against my naked ass cheek, challenging what I said.
I roll my eyes at him and he chuckles.
I take his hand and lead it higher, to the bow on the back of my new thong.
He arches an eyebrow. “Let me see it.”
His fingers rub the satin of the bow on my ass, and I sit there and let him, looking into his eyes.
“It’s not red,” I say regretfully, suddenly wishing it were.
“Show me,” he says, rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip.
“Show you what?” I whisper, concentrating only on how hard he is between my legs and on his beautiful eyes staring at my mouth.
“Your underwear,” he says.
I laugh. “What are you, fifteen?”
He grinds me against him, reminding me that he is most definitely not fifteen, and I gulp.
He plants a kiss on my cheek before leaning back and placing his hands behind his head, apparently waiting for me to dismount him and show him my underwear.
I’m about to ask him if he’s serious but the look in his eyes stops me.
He looks like he’s about to unwrap the greatest present Santa ever gave him. Life ever gave him. He looks like a starved lion about to eat his first meal in days.
He looks like he is about to attack me.
And I am loving every second of it.
And I’m about to make him die for it.
This is why you got the underwear in the first place, Olivia . . . who cares if it’s not red? He doesn’t seem to care.
I try to pump myself up because I’m about to strip for this deliciously sexy man who is basically fucking me with his eyes right about now.
I get off his lap and hear him moan in protest.
I smirk.
I get up and walk so that I’m a couple of feet away from him.
I look him straight in the eye as I start to slowly slip off the straps of my dress.
I see him gulp.
I reach behind me with one hand and slowly draw down the zipper of my dress.
I let the dress fall so that the whole top half of my torso is exposed.
I look down and see my tight stomach, and my full breasts decorated in the black lacy bra.
I run my fingers along the edges of the bra’s cups and play with the straps, letting one fall down my shoulder. I look at Callan, and his eyes are fixed on mine. His pupils are so dilated, his eyes almost look black.
I pull down the other strap of my bra and take a step toward him.
“You still haven’t shown me what you’ve got under there . . .” Callan teases. But his eyes are serious.
“Shh, be patient,” I say.
I unzip my dress the rest of the way down and let it drop to my feet.
I hear Callan inhale sharply and I see his eyes make their way down my body. I’m left standing in my thong, my bra, and my high heels.
I hear Callan curse under his breath. He stands up and makes his way toward me, but I raise my hand to stop him and take a step back.
I unclasp my bra and let it fall down as well, the cool air that meets me making my nipples pucker, and I see Callan’s eyes flare at the sight.
“Do you like what I’ve got, Callan?” I ask.
He smirks, and takes another step toward me, to which I respond by taking another step back.
“Jesus, Olivia, let me touch you,” he growls, and takes another step forward.
I shake my head no, and take another step back, before turning away from him and bending over and taking off my high heels. I unfasten the straps and slip them off my feet, one by one, knowing each second Callan has to wait to touch me will drive him even more crazy. Also knowing Callan is enjoying a very, very nice view of my ass.
When I turn around, I see Callan basically eating me up with his eyes.
“That’s it,” he roughly whispers.
He wraps me in his arms and kisses the hell out of me. His hands all over my body. He picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist, taking me to his bed.
Finally . . .
We get there and he unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the ground. He takes off his shoes and socks and unfastens his belt, so he’s naked except for his black slacks.
He lays me down and kisses my neck, licking and sucking.
I moan and squirm under him, wanting him to take me already.
His lips find my nipple and he sucks it in his mouth, sending a tingling sensation right between my legs.
He turns his head and takes the other one in his mouth, and I moan in response.
His hand slips between my legs and I feel him tease me through my lace panties. His lips find mine and he kisses me hard and rough, his teeth nipping at my lower lip and his tongue slipping between my lips to taste. His kiss is drugging and delicious, his lips perfectly molded against mine.
His fingers keep working me through my panties and I feel like I’m going to die if he doesn’t give me more soon.
“Callan, please,” I beg.
He kisses my neck and uses his hand to pull my panties to the side before pushing a finger inside me.
I gasp and hold on to his shoulders, my nails biting into his skin as he slowly pumps his finger in and out.
“God, Olivia . . . you’re so tight,” he groans as he keeps fingering me.
I whimper and feel myself getting wetter and wetter.
I bite his neck a little. He groans low in his throat, and at the sound, need rips through me. I run my hands over his head, and his hair ends up rumpled and sexy.
I feel drunk, and naughty, and impulsive. I’ve never been the girl to just go with it, to fuck everything, but this . . . this man . . . this moment . . . this need, I cannot deny myself him. He drags his fingers down my bare abdomen and expertly teases his hand over my panties.
Oh.
God.
My hips jerk in a circle to get closer and I grip the back of his neck for balance.
“You’re so responsive. I could tease you all night and get off on watching you.” He rubs my sex lightly over my panties and leans over to nibble my lips. He kisses and nibbles my neck and continues to move his finger, making my knees weak when he knowingly passes by my clit.
I’ve never had this. Even kisses like this. I want to take every feeling apart and figure out its contents and I want to put into words how amazing it feels, and I want to forget about all that and just feel alive, intensely connected, wanted and so, so desirous. I’ve wanted things, but this wanting is more like an ache or an obsession. I can’t seem to pull apart the feeling either, or give it a word, so I don’t, and just let him finger me, half dressed at his place, panting and making noises like I’m some sex kitten.
His toned arms come around me.
He’s soon tasting my nipple again with his tongue, long, warm swipes. He moves his tongue to flick the tip in a circle around my breast. He squeezes the flesh to push my nipple deeper into his mouth, and when he has it right where he wants it, he sucks.
He stops and lifts his head and watches me, lips curled, as a fingertip circles the sensitized point of my nipple.
He hooks his thumb on the edge of my panties and pulls them down my legs. Revealing my pussy.
He grabs me by the ass and dips his head downward. “Do you know what you’re getting into?” His eyes are dilated and swirling with a combination of tenderness, desire, and heat.
His lips press to the inside of my thigh, then trail a delicious path up my abdomen. “Open your mouth and kiss me,” he says.
I arch my back and stick my tongue into his mouth even as he plunges his own in mine. He groans as he makes contact. “You as into this as I am?”
“Mmm . . .”
He ducks his head and a hungry sucking sound leaves him as he tortures the hardened, sensitized point of my nipple back in his mouth.
I cling to his shoulders, pleasure cascading through me as I start humping his hand.
“Callan . . .”
“Callan what?”
“Callan Carmichael—”
“That’s right.”
He smothers my mouth and kisses me hard again.
We’re kissing wetly and heatedly when he withdraws his finger from my tight sheath and continues brushing, grazing. I can’t breathe from the anticipation of waiting for him again. I pull my mouth free and press it against his jaw, panting against his skin. Soon I’m holding in my breath, waiting for it—for him to fill me with something, anything at this point would be good.
