She parted her lips to speak, but he shushed her with his fingertip against them. God, he was so tempted to let her suck on his finger right now, to watch her simulate a blow job, to let her show him what she could do. But that would come later. He needed to kiss her first.
That is, after he teased her.
“At some point soon, some point very, very soon, I’m going to kiss you,” he said, watching the expression in her eyes shift to a heady kind of desire. Her fingers curved into his shoulders, holding on tightly to him. “You’re going to close your eyes,” he said, and then her lids fluttered closed. “And you’re not going to know when it’s coming. You’re going to want it. Your body is going to be crying out for a kiss,” he said, his voice husky and raw as her chest rose and fell, and she moved closer to him as they swayed. He cupped the back of her neck, watching her response to every touch, from the way her lips parted as he threaded his hands through her hair, to how she leaned back into him, almost relishing the way his fingers ran slowly through those soft, wavy strands. A sigh came next, a desperate needy sigh, and a barely-there arch of her back, her body seeking out more contact. “But I might not kiss you yet. I might run my hands down your arms,” he said, then did just that. “Or maybe I’ll stop telling you what I’m going to do.”
He swore she murmured a no, but then her sounds were swallowed by a sexy gasp as he dipped his mouth to her chest, kissing her above her breasts. Immediately, she reached for him, her hands shooting around his neck.
He tsked her, moving her hands, gently but firmly, to his shoulders. Then he yanked her closer, so their bodies were snug and neatly aligned. He pressed his groin against her hip, letting her know how immensely turned on he was. A small moan escaped her lips, and her reaction thrilled him. Gently pushing her hair off her shoulder, he pressed his lips in a soft, sweet kiss on her collarbone. She wriggled closer as he mapped a path up her neck, the tip of his tongue tasting her as he found her ear, then nipped on her earlobe.
“And only then, after I’ve teased you, after I’ve made you think the kiss might come at any second, will I actually kiss you. But you’ll need to say please.”
“Please,” she whispered and her voice was so barren, so strung out with need that he knew he’d succeeded at his first mission. Not a lesson, but rather his driving goal to turn her arousal meter way past high.
“I need you to keep your hands on my shoulders, Casey. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.”
“No place else. Got it?” he asked, and it pained him to ask her to hold back. But this was what she wanted. To learn how.
“I promise to be good,” she said, on a sexy smile as she dug her fingers into his shoulders to emphasize that she was listening.
“You’re such a good student,” he whispered.
She licked her lips once, and he took his time, wanting to memorize every second of his first kiss with the woman he’d lusted after for years. Her cheeks were flush, her lips were open, and her expression was so damn inviting. He ran a finger against her lips, eliciting another small gasp from her. He couldn’t wait any more. Their lips met, and for the first few seconds it was soft and sweet, a gentle taste and tease. It was an exploration—her lips, her mouth, her breath that ghosted over him. She tasted like chocolate cake, and he relished every millimeter of her lips, tugging on her bottom one, then nipping the top with his teeth, making her want him. Making her want so much more. His hands trailed down the bare flesh of her arms, and he felt the goosebumps rise on her skin, all from the teasing, taunting kisses. The swell of her lips, the curve of her mouth, the sweetness of her breath—all of it collided in his senses, along with his heightened awareness of this intensely sexually aware woman who was now asking him to take her to new places and explore unchartered territory.
It never occurred to him that they wouldn’t kiss well. It had only ever occurred to him that they would kiss excellently. Passionately. The kind of kisses that demolished your grip on the here and now, that sent you spinning into blissful oblivion.
“Do you want me to kiss you more?” he whispered hotly.
“Yes,” she said on a hypnotic nod.
“What do you say?”
“Please,” she murmured, as she pushed against him and he felt the heat between her legs.
His mind took off, imagining how silky hot she’d feel when he touched her. “I only have one goal now. To give you the kind of kiss that makes you hot and wet and desperate for more.”
“Oh God,” she said, then his tongue found hers, waiting, ready, so fucking eager.
There was no pause. No transition. The speed simply shot to the stratosphere. Their mouths united in a hot and hungry fusion. Part of him wasn’t thinking at all; he was only feeling all this desire that swamped his body. Then another part of him was thinking intensely about how he was finally kissing her, and it was better then he’d imagined as their mouths crashed and their lips came together in a greedy union that overpowered his brain and took hold of his mind. He didn’t care that they were in a bistro, and others might be watching. He couldn’t care because she kissed him back hard and passionately in a sweet devouring of the senses. He stopped controlling her and let her go wild as she laced her hands into his hair, grasping, pulling, tugging. She was so fiery, so intoxicating, and it was like being buzzed on the kind of kisses that only spelled one thing, flashing like a neon sign advertising hot sex, coming soon.
She ran her fingers through his hair, her hands curling around his skull. She rocked her hips against him, and soon this was about to become a very indecent public display of affection on the tiny dance floor in the bistro. He barely cared though as she moaned into his mouth.
It wasn’t going to be easy to teach her to let him lead all the time when he wanted this kind of wildness from her too, this kind of abandon as she grabbed at his hair, her fingers greedily diving in and holding on.
But he was determined to give her what she’d asked for, so he reached for her hands, gripped them tightly and brought them down to her waist.
He stepped away. The look in her eyes was hazy. She was panting.
The loss of contact with her lithe, eager body was a cold glass of ice water thrown in his face. But he had a better plan.
“You stopped,” she said, on a pout.
“You’re not learning if your hands are all over me. So you’ll need to get down on your knees,” he said, and her eyes flared with a wild awareness of what he was asking. “My room. Now.”