He breaks away from my still-seeking lips, his mouth finding my jaw. My neck. Delivering hot, wet kisses all over my sensitive skin. I tip my head back, giving him better access, and he sucks on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. Shifting upward, he nibbles and sucks so hard, I’m worried he’s going to give me a hickey.
No one has ever given me a hickey before. Emma wears them like a badge of honor. I can only imagine what my mom would think if she saw one on my neck.
She’d freak the hell out.
“Fuck, you smell so good,” Beck murmurs against my neck, nuzzling me there. I shiver, tilting my head to the side, my hands sliding up and down the firm wall of his chest. His T-shirt is soft and I want to gather it in my fingers, tugging it upwards so I can touch his bare flesh.
“This shirt.” He reaches between us, his fingers tracing the bodice, his touch featherlight. The tops of my breasts are basically exposed, which is totally not my style. I’ve never worn this shirt before anywhere. It was a total impulse buy, and once I got it into my closet, I was always afraid it was a little too revealing.
But it’s perfect for this night. This date, or whatever we should call it.
With Beck.
“What about it?” I ask breathlessly.
He glances up, his smoldering, hot gaze meeting mine. “It’s cut really low.”
Those fingers trace back and forth.
Back and forth.
“You don’t like it?” I ask, my voice shaky.
“I love it.” He dips his index finger into the space between my cleavage, the very tip of his finger barely touching my skin, making me suck in a sharp breath. “Did you wear it for me?”
I’m shocked silent by his question, the commanding way he asked it. This is a side I’ve never seen from Beck before and it’s really…
Hot.
“Yes,” I whisper, deciding to be truthful.
The pleased gleam in his eyes tells me he likes my answer. “Rise up.”
I do as he asks, straightening my spine as he wraps his arms around me, his hands splayed on my back as he dips his head…
And runs his lips along the same spot where his fingers just were.
My entire body feels weak at the first touch of his mouth on my skin. His lips are hot and smooth, and I tilt my head down, blatantly watching him. All the air feels like it’s caught in my throat and I’m panting, as if I have no control over myself.
Beck glances up, his gaze fusing with mine, his mouth still on my skin. Never tearing his gaze away, he reaches up, a single finger curling around the front of my shirt and tugging. Gently at first.
Then harder, as he tries to pull it down. The fabric loosens and gives, gaping from my chest and he cocks his head to the side, looking down my shirt.
My nipples are hard, rubbing against the ruching, and I wait for him to do something.
Say something.
He’s quiet as he reaches for my billowy sleeves, pushing the first one, then the other, off my shoulders. The fabric falls easily, gathering in the crooks of my elbows, and this helps the bodice fabric loosen as well.
The boy knows what he’s doing.
Beck draws the back of his knuckles across the tops of my breasts. Goosebumps spark everywhere, covering my skin, making me shiver, and when he pulls the front of my shirt down, I’m almost completely exposed.
Only my nipples are still covered.
“Lean back a little,” he whispers, and I automatically do as he says, my gaze still glued on him as he runs his mouth all over my newly exposed skin. He licks the valley between my breasts. Cups them together, his tongue tracing my cleavage.
I watch, breathless, overcome. This sort of thing would freak me out if I were with anyone else. I could barely take it when Jonah would touch my boobs, and there was no way in hell I would let him take my clothes off.
With Beck, though, I’m impatient. My thoughts are frantic, consuming—full of him and what he might do to me next. All I can concentrate on is the touch of his mouth on my skin, and how can I take this shirt off, so I can give him even better access to my body.
“I don’t want to rip it,” he murmurs, glancing up at me through his eyelashes. “Help me take it off, okay?”
I lift my arms and let him carefully pull the shirt up and over my head, before it falls onto the passenger seat and I’m sitting on Beck’s lap, completely topless. Half-naked and exposed.
He falls back against his seat, blowing out a harsh breath, his gaze never straying from my chest. He stares at my breasts, working his jaw. Licking his lips. When he finally lifts his gaze to mine, his expression is ravenous.
Without hesitation, he reaches for me, his hand curling around the back of my neck, his fingers tangled in my hair as he consumes me with his hungry mouth. I’m greedy too, my hands sliding down, reaching for the hem of his shirt, so I can pull it off. He breaks away from me for only a second, ignoring my whimper of protest as he violently pulls his shirt off, tossing it aside. We come back together, our chests pressed close, for the first time we’re skin-to-skin.
Oh God, he feels so good. Hot and smooth and firm.
I’m burning up from the inside. Going up in flames. Our mouths find each other, our tongues dancing. Mating. I’m grinding on top of him. I can feel him through his shorts. He’s hard and long and oh my God, I want to touch him again. I want to see it.
I want to see all of him.
“Fuck, Adds.” He tears his mouth from mine, pressing his face into my collarbone. I hold him close, my fingers tugging on his hair as I rest my cheek on top of his head. I can’t stop moving. I feel restless. Needy. “We should slow down.”
I go completely still when his words sink in. I can’t believe he’s the one who has to say it.
That’s usually my line.
We sit like that for a moment, the sound of my racing heart pounding in my head, my ears. His stubble-roughened cheek brushes my sensitive skin. Skin that’s never been touched by another before, and a whimper leaves me.
That one he heard. He glances up, as if he only just realized his own power, and he dips his head.
And rains kisses across the tops of my breasts.
I lean back, giving him more room, ignoring the stretch and ache of my legs. The position I’m in isn’t the best, but I don’t care. I want to lose myself in the sensation of his mouth on my skin. He cups one breast while kissing the other, his mouth everywhere but my nipple, where I want him the most. I wait, breathless as he drops a kiss on one. Licks it. Then sucks it into his mouth.
“Oh God,” I gasp, clutching him to me. He drifts his thumb back and forth across the other nipple, alternating between the two. Giving them both equal attention. All while I feel as if I’m about to lose my mind from his touch. His mouth.
This is what Mom worried about, I think, as my mind starts to empty from all other thoughts except this boy and how he makes me feel. This all-consuming lust filling me, driving me on. I’m restless. Squirming. I want his mouth all over my body. I want his hand between my legs. I want to feel his fingers search me. I want him naked.
I want to know what it feels like, to have this boy move inside of me. To be connected to him in the most intimate way possible.
His hand drops, resting at the front of my shorts, hesitating for only a moment before he undoes the snap.
Slides down the zipper.
The denim parts, his mouth still on my skin, his lips still wrapped around my nipple as he sucks, his fingers fumbling as he spreads the denim of my shorts wider. Those magical fingers brush against the front of my lace panties, and he releases my nipple from his mouth with an audible pop, leaning back against his seat.