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.Brianna rises up on her tiptoes, her bull’s eye his lips.Lon diverts, reserving the exchange for true intimacy.Odd, the thing he used to be quite content in doing with her in their youth without prompting all of the intrusive things that likely follow is now off the table.If it’s sex the tomcat wants, sex the tomcat will get.He unbuttons his jeans, fully disrobing.Bent over at his waist, his hands work skillfully at the button on hers, releasing her of the constricting fabric.She follows his lead, her hands flexible in their wrapping about her back and unhooking her bra, letting it fall to the floor.Standing before her now, Lon’s eyes take their sweet time in sizing up her stellar frame.The lump in his throat grows formidable, powered by his surging bodily endorphins.Physically, he grows hard and aroused.Mentally, he coaches himself that this is just another girl.Cardinally, his heart weakens, its urge to love and covet her body the way he always imagined he would in such a moment.Brianna’s eyes are locked on his in nervous anticipation of what she may find if they linger south.Her mouth feels dry like cotton, certainly a side effect of the thunderous measure in her chest, debating the next move and who is supposed to make it.Clearing his throat apprehensively, Lon calls on his ego to support his dwindling confidence.The thought that for such a tomcat, she’s pretty reserved, he doubts his own physical allure.“You wanna get comfortable?” he motions toward the bed.Brianna nods.Pulling her eyes from him, she settles in the middle of his bed, her torso propped up on her elbows.“What do you like?” he joins her there, his legs nestled between her thighs, his thick, engulfing torso hovering over hers.Kissing is always good.Her initial response coming to mind, she mutes the unseasoned reply.The apprehension in her eyes plays on his devotion.He dips his head to hers, their lips just centimeters away, wanting nothing more than to comfort her with them.Recognizing that if he does so, he will relinquish all control.The cherished action only good for one thing, reminding him of the way things used to be, the way she used to affect him inside.A huge incentive in their palling around—When could he steal the next kiss?—the innocent, soul-stirring action proof that she belonged to him.The thought quickly bringing to mind the kiss she shared with Johnny just days before her grandparents took her away.He recalls last night.Johnny went after her to deliver her home safely, and he didn’t return until the next morning.The bad boy gloated about the sickening fact at the breakfast table.Nope.She doesn’t belong to him anymore.Maybe she never did.Even though he and Johnny have shared much over the past three years, women have been excluded from that equation.“I can’t do this,” he says, sitting back on his haunches, forcing a bearable distance.“What do I have to do for you to want me?” Brianna’s inquiry is accompanied with her best come-hither smile, attempting to sway him from high-principled habits of their teenaged years.Determined for him to see her as a woman and not some fresh-faced girl, her hand traces his muscular leg from his knee to his inner thigh.Ultimately wrapping around the swollen mass that resides there, she marvels devotedly at her first up close and personal encounter with the gender defying appendage.“Ugh,” Lon groans, his head falling back against his shoulders with the stroke of her hand.She watches him, appeased that she can deliver such bliss.Unsure of whether she executes the action properly, she does what she has always done with Lon.Tuning in to his verbal and physical cues, she takes heed of his indulgence, her hand generous in its responsiveness to each prompt.Aware that there is no turning back now, Lon indulges in each vigilant caress.Stilling her hand sharply just before the point of release, his deep, sensual voice sounds, “You gotta tell me what you like.” He aims to return her generosity, proving he is equally proficient in bed.“Do you like it when a guy goes down on you?”“Sure,” she purrs.Her hand brushing lightly against the side of his face, her lips seek his.“I love it,” she whispers, not exactly the proclamation she intended to make, the word you much more fitting in the emotion she wanted to express.She replaced it, figuring it would only solidify her naivety and stall his momentum.“I bet you do, tomcat.” He forces the complimentary yet spiteful appellation, maintaining his brick wall.Escaping another kiss, he urges her to lie back, his mouth catering to an alternate but equally provocative set of lips.Brianna sucks in rapid, shallow breaths through her parted mouth at the feel of his tongue, wet and warm against her core.Her abdomen, like a gentle tidal wave, flutters as she presses her head back into a pillow filled with Lon’s scent.Arching her back instinctively, her hips rise, pressing eagerly against his attentive tongue.“Oh gawd,” she pants, the exquisite sensation somewhere between pleasure and ache, likely to drive her mad.“You like that?” his voice and ego in tandem, both boastful in their swagger, satiated with her desirous reply.“I like you,” she chokes out between breathy moans.One hand wrenches itself about his sheets, the other dually entwined in his thick, dark hair.With her voracious cooperation, Lon continues.His lips and tongue take turns in their nipping and lapping, skills he has either read about in dirty mags or studied proficiently in X-rated movies.A dutiful scholar, he aces his present assignment.“Lon.Please,” she cries, unsure of exactly what it is she expects him to do, yet convinced there must be some release to the libidinous buildup.He sits upright between her thighs, the back of his hand clearing the perimeter of his mouth of her sweet, succulent nectar.Pilfering through the nightstand, he lands a condom.He tears the wrapper with his teeth, quickly assembling the latex barrier around his shaft.Propping himself above her torso with one flexing arm, his other hand positions his overwrought manhood snugly at the opening of her center.He momentarily rubs the tip against her, soaking up her moisture.The sensation tormenting, begs of further penetration.Brianna pulls his torso to hers, needing to feel him skin to skin, willing their charged bodies to become one.The hasty momentum causes him to thrust inside her, the constricting tightness catching him by surprise.Her face buried in his shoulder, her teeth break his skin, much the same as her nails on his back with the painful throbbing that ensues between her legs.“Ugh,” she releases a faint, high-pitched cry, hopeful that pleasure will soon follow.Lon stills himself, wrapped in her taut sheath [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]