The throb swells, and I gasp. I think it might happen. It is happening. Almost. I’m so wet. I’m so desperate for more. And he’s kissing me again. “You want me to kiss you, darlin’?” he murmurs against me. “You want me to eat you and suck on you and make you come?”
God help me. Yes.
The urges of my body are wild and hot, insanely extreme. If the nuns could see me now they’d lock me up for good and throw away the key.
Travis rips my bikini loose until the tiny triangles fall away, revealing the fullness of my naked breasts.
He’s kissing my skin, whispering lust-slurred, wicked words. Words I’ve barely even heard and never in a million years used.
Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Should I see if I can make you come just like this? ‘Cause I think you’re just about there already. Let’s see what happens when I do this. What do you say, darlin’?
I moan as his fingers gently pinch my nipple.
“You want me to suck on you real sweet, baby? Or hard and rough? Let’s find out what you like.”
Of course it occurs to me that we’re going way too fast. That I’m jumping in to the ridiculously deep end without even knowing how to swim. But it’s too late to protest or pull away. I’m already riding the crest of a pleasure wave that’s going to be the most intense thing that’s ever happened to me.
“Say it,” he murmurs, swirling his tongue around my nipple.
“Please, Travis.”
“Good girl. Easy now.”
If he doesn’t do it right now I’m going to wrap myself around him and keep him there until he does. I’m going to beg and plead for that mouth to kiss me and that tongue to lick me. The needy ache is a roaring wildfire in me.
And then he does it. His mouth closes around my nipple and he begins to suck me into his hot mouth. His tongue licks the underside of my nipple in rough laves, then he draws more deeply, sucking in greedy pulls. He pinches my other nipple between two fingers, rotating gently. His palm cups my breast, squeezing and pinching. It’s warm, so warm, feeding the heat of my body. I melt, just like that, the sweet rushes surging lushly through my body.
Travis laughs softly. “Damn, you’re a hot little thing.”
I’m still riding the ripples when I feel the callouses of his rough hands wander over the soft skin of my thighs. His fingers … oh, God … they’re sliding closer … closer. Until he’s rubbing his fingers over the fabric of my bikini. There. Pushing the cloth aside—oh, hell—until his fingers slide over my sensitive, swollen flesh, finding the little hyper-sensitive nub where his fingertips glide with deliberate pressure as his mouth feasts on my nipples in lusty pulls.
It happens again.
The pleasure compounds into a million stars of clenching ecstasy. I’m flying. I’m in love with life. I’m in love with him and his mouth and his fingers.
I float. Until the waves slowly begin to calm.
There’s a tiny voice at the back of my mind. You’ve gone too far and too fast. You’re naked and coming hard and sinning like it’s going out of style. Go home right now. Be good like you know you should.
But I can’t move. I don’t want to move.
This feels far too good to stop now.
We’re so ravenous it hurts.
My hands are gripping his brawny arms. His mouth leaves my breast and he’s sliding lower, licking his way down my stomach. He yanks the ties at the side of my bikini bottom and it falls completely off.
“Hold still, sweetheart. I’m going to kiss you real good.” His voice. With its edge of darkness and roughed-up desire. I think he could make me come by just murmuring his sweet, dirty words. “Right where you want me to. Nice and slow.”
Oh, God. He’s going to do that thing that Rose was talking about.
He pushes my legs wider with brutal strength, holding me down, dominating me easily. My intimate muscles are still fluttering. His mouth is so close I can feel the hot strikes of his breath.
Well, this is a whole new kind of education. Because, just then, his tongue licks into me. This is not a soft, hesitant initiation. This is lewd, insatiable worship. It’s wet, hungry, debauched. His tongue is everywhere, tasting and feasting with messy adoration. His rough, careful fingers are ridiculously intimate, sliding through the moisture, prodding and pressing gently. Opening me. Touching me in places I’ve never been touched. His mouth closes around the pulsing nub and the rushes are starting again. His hold gentles and his tongue dips into me, pushing deeper, in and out. His thumb finds my nub, swirling it, pressing. I come again, hard. His tongue is inside me and I can feel my inner muscles gently squeezing as he tastes me.
The starry rush goes on and on.
As the waves begin to ease, he keeps on licking and kissing me, playing me with his fingers. The intimacy is astounding.
After a while, he crawls up my body and lays next to me. He’s smiling and it’s the most sublime sight, his eyes all sparkly and green.
He’s staring deep into my eyes and the link is profound and connective. “You taste like heaven when you come. Just like I knew you would.”
How do I reply to such a thing?
I touch my hand to his chest and I notice then that his—wow. His … manhood is halfway out of his unbuttoned shorts. I’m very shocked by the sight of it. I mean, I’m not that naïve. I have three older sisters, after all. Two of them are … experienced, and they’ve told me things. A lot of things. But this … it’s not at all what I was expecting. It’s big. Huge. Much bigger than I would have thought. And dizzyingly hard. It’s rounded at the head and … wet. Sort of dusky and hot-looking and shiny with moisture.
He laughs at my expression. “That must have been a very strict boarding school.”
I’m still mesmerized by what I’m seeing. “It was.”
“Don’t be scared of me, baby. Go ahead and touch if you want.”
Maybe it’s the beer I chugged, or the enlightenment of back-to-back orgasms—or both—because I do want to. I want to touch him.
Once you get a taste for the devil, there’s no turning back, as it turns out.
Travis kisses me and it’s the most outrageous thing, to taste myself on his lips. He lays back, pulling me along with him so I’m half on top of him.
My naked body still hums with the after-effects of my rushes. Tentatively, I smooth my fingers across the feather inked to his muscular shoulder. Along his hair-dusted chest. And lower. I run my fingers over the tight grooves of his six pack. He has a tattoo low across his stomach, a decorative line of musical notes. Everything about him fascinates me. “What’s the song?” I whisper, as my fingers rove.
“The first song I ever wrote.”
He gives me time to explore him, to run my fingers over the textures of his body. I’ve never touched a man, and certainly not like this. He’s a work of art, is the damn truth. All sculpted and bronzed. I let my fingers rove the darker arrow line of hair on his lower stomach.
I’m getting closer.
To it.
To his gigantic cock, Rose and Scarlett call it.
If my sisters are brave enough to do this, then so am I. Slowly, I let my hand ease around the thick length, rubbing my palm across the silky bulk. Another small gush of liquid seeps out the end.