“This?” he asked, sucking gently through the material, “Or this?” He plucked with his lips.
And then with his teeth.
Squirming, she gasped, “Yes.”
He kept it up, using his mouth to tease one nipple, his fingers to roll the other until she whispered raggedly, “Cannon...”
“Tell me.”
Instead she leaned away and nearly leveled him when she pulled off her shirt.
God almighty, she was so hot he didn’t know how much more he could take.
Her soft, pink ni**les were pulled tight, her pale br**sts full and flushed. She breathed quickly, watching him, anxious.
Savoring the moment, Cannon put a hand to her narrow waist. Her skin was so silky, and incredibly warm. Those sinful shorts rode low on her hips. They barely covered more than panties would.
He stroked two fingers over her hip bone to her navel, getting hotter still when she wiggled. “Ticklish?”
“Yes.”
He couldn’t wait to see how she reacted when he stroked those same two fingers deep inside her.
“Come here.” Sitting back, he lifted her over him so that she straddled his lap, facing him. Without their shorts, he could enter her like this. That thought tested his resolve, especially now that her open thighs rested directly over the ridge of his erection.
She moved against him, rolling her hips until he clasped them to keep her still.
Given the difficulty she’d admitted to, he’d expected her to be more reserved.
Instead she seemed starved for release, and that, too, fired his blood.
Covering both br**sts with his hands, he kissed her again, long and deep, light and easy, using his tongue, his teeth, until they were both panting. At every second, he was aware of her, her reactions, gauging what she liked, what she loved, what turned her on the most.
“Cannon,” she groaned. “My shirt is off now.”
A hint? “Believe me, baby, I know.” He played with her ni**les the same way he teased her mouth, first lightly brushing, then insistently tugging.
Would she tell him what she wanted?
Hopeful, he took her mouth again in a deep eating kiss, all the while his hands moved over her, up and down the toned length of her narrow back, down to the gentle swell of her hips, from the top of her silken thighs to her knees and back up again.
Hooking one arm around her waist, the other under her hips, he arched her forward and trailed wet, hot kisses down her throat to the tops of her br**sts.
With his tongue, he taunted her, getting close to her nipple, but never quite touching no matter how she shifted, trying to direct him.
“Cannon.”
“Tell me.”
He felt the urgency of her deep breaths, the indecision that held her back, until she cupped a small hand around his neck and drew him forward, saying raggedly, “I want your mouth on me.”
“Where?” Enjoying her like this, he licked her throat. “Here?” Down to her cle**age, where he dipped his tongue. “Like this?” Farther down, lightly touching his lips to her nipple. “Or right here?” And with that, he sucked her in.
She cried out, her hips pressing in to his abs, her runner’s thighs squeezing him, her fingers so tight in his hair that it stung.
Taking advantage of her position up on her knees, her body taut, he locked her to him and drew on her until she was rhythmically riding against him.
Just like that, he thought, more convinced than ever that her only problem had been being with the wrong man.
Which meant any man other than him.
He switched to the other breast, kissing around her throbbing nipple, curling his tongue around her, pulling and licking before treating her to another long, leisurely suckle.
Her reaction was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.
With her head tipped back, her long hair draped over his forearm and her br**sts lifted higher. Open around his hips, her long, trim legs quivered. She gasped each breath, whimpering, moaning.
He loved seeing her like this, a little lost, a whole lot turned on.
She didn’t have any problems, not with him.
Initially he’d thought to drag this out for hours, and then for days, until she was ready. But he’d never seen a woman more ready than Yvette was right now.
Even as he cautioned himself not to rush her, he opened the snap at the top of those itty-bitty cutoffs, then eased the zipper down so he could get his hand inside.
He cupped her over her panties and still felt the damp heat of her excitement.
Straightening, she went utterly motionless except for the bellowing of her deep breaths.
Ever so lightly, he touched her while still lazily drawing on her nipple.
Groaning, her nails bit into his shoulders and he looked up to see her head dropped forward, her eyes squeezed shut. Her dark hair fell around her face like a curtain.
She felt pressured, he realized, and was already worrying about “performing.” He wanted her back to mindless pleasure, so he redirected her thoughts.
“Just touching,” he whispered to her.
She gave a shaky nod, and said, “I don’t know if I can stand this.”
“I know it’s difficult for you, but I love touching you, Yvette. Here,” he said, licking her nipple. “And here.” He pressed his fingers to her sex, able to feel her swollen lips through the slinky material of her panties.
Her hips rocked once, then stilled.
“Okay?”
“I...” She trembled as he delved a little deeper, tracing her vulva.
“For me,” he urged her, plucking at her nipple with his lips. “Tell me it’s okay.”