CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Kennedy
THERE WERE A number of things that I found incredibly sexy when it came to a man. Like the way he walked with a determined gait, or how he opened doors for a girl, whether he knew her or not. But none of those simple things compared to what I saw when I walked into my kitchen on Thanksgiving morning.
Dane had his bare back to me, wearing nothing but his white boxer briefs. He had his earphones in, and he was doing a little shimmy with his hips while he prepared some breakfast in front of the stove. His body was carved, each line of every muscle clearly defined. I followed those very lines down his back, to the dimples in his back, and the taught, shapely muscles of his butt. He shimmied again, and started humming along to whatever was playing through on his iPod, while I leaned against the kitchen counter and enjoyed the show.
Seeing him so carefree, and at ease in his own skin, was enough to elicit a slight stir between my legs, and I wanted nothing more than to satisfy my innate hunger for him.
I pushed off the counter, and walked forward until I could wrap my arms around him, and feel his warm, smooth flesh through the shirt I’d thrown on. After we’d gone to bed last night, Dane continued to lavish my breasts, and we ended up making out like horny teenagers for the second time in a day. But this morning I had other plans, and they were explicit, adult plans.
He turned his head, pulled out his earphones, and grinned down at me.
“What ya doing?” I asked, peering around him to see what he had been cooking. The sweet smell of French toast whirled around us, and my stomach grumbled in response.
“I was hoping I could surprise you with breakfast in bed,” replied Dane. He looked bashful as he turned to face me and put his hands on my hips. I knew exactly what he was thinking, because I was thinking it too. It was our last morning together, the last time he was going to be able to surprise me with anything, let alone breakfast in bed. I didn’t want to waste it by eating. At least not eating food.
“You didn’t have to. I could’ve helped you.”
“You would have distracted me,” he chuckled, removing the frying pan from the stove and switching it off. “Especially in my shirt.”
“I can take it off if you’d like,” I said bravely. I had never been so forward when it came to intimacy, and taking what I wanted, but Dane had shown me that it’s okay to not only ask for what you wanted, but also to give yourself freely.
I started unbuttoning his shirt, watching as his eyes followed the movement of my fingers.
“Kitten.” His mouth wrapped around the nickname I’d become so fond of, and caressed every letter.
“Are you going to feed me?” I asked innocently, stepping back until I hit the counter. I hoisted myself up, and leaned back on my arms. Dane eyed my pink lace panties, and then prowled towards me like a man possessed. He parted my thighs, and came to stand between my legs.
“Do you know how sexy you are?” He asked hoarsely. His eyes bored into mine, the icy blue darkening.
“No,” I sat up, brushing my hands through his lush brown hair, and wrapped my arms around his neck, “but I know how sexy you make me feel.”
It was true. Dane made me feel both desirable and desired, and it didn’t matter whether were naked in bed, or wearing t-shirts and sweats while watching television on the sofa. He kissed the side of my mouth, and pressed his forehead against mine. “You deserve it. That, and so much more.”
His words touched me so deeply, and I was afraid things were turning too serious too quickly. This was about getting our fill of each other, and savoring every second until time drifted away from us.
“Mr. Winters,” I sighed, breaking the somberness that had cloaked us. “I do believe you are overdressed for this occasion.”
He lifted his head, and flashed me his signature dirty grin.
“By all means then, Ms. Monroe, undress me so I can have my wicked way with you, and then feed you.”
I hitched my knees up, and used my toes to slide Dane’s boxer briefs down his legs. He removed my panties with his hands, and placed open-mouthed kisses on the arches of my feet before tugging my hips to the edge of the counter.
“Are you…” he hesitated, looking slightly red-faced. “Can we…?”
I knew what he was asking, but I wanted to draw out his sudden awkwardness. Seeing a grown man squirm was quite funny, especially when that was man was always so cocky, and self-assured.
“We’re good,” I replied, unable to hide my giggle. He was so fucking cute when he got himself all flustered. It was a beautiful, but rare, sight.
“Are you making fun of me?” He asked. His brows lifted but his eyes filled with a playfulness he only seemed to share with me. It was one of many things I was going to take away from my time with him, and keep it locked away safe in my memory box. I wanted to remember these little moments, and flick back to them later on.
“I couldn’t help it. I’ve never seen you blush before, and it was kind of cute.”
“Describing me as ‘cute’ doesn’t make me feel very manly,” he stated. “In fact, standing in your kitchen buck ass naked should make you think of anything but the word ‘cute’.”
“Oh really? What should I be thinking about when you’re standing buck ass naked in my kitchen?” My hands found his firm, round butt, and squeezed. God I would never get tired of touching him like this.
“I don’t know.” He tapped his chin, and pretended to think about it. “Words like ‘hung’ and ‘huge’ come to mind.”
“Hmmm…” I scrunched my nose. “I was thinking more along the lines of ‘average’ and ‘miniature’.”
I was pushing him, taunting him, and judging from the look in his eyes our banter got him as excited as it did me.
“You’re going to regret that,” he murmured. His low voice warmed my skin, and my nipples pebbled. I pulled him closer, and whispered against his lips, “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He caught the message loud, and clear, and responded by crashing his mouth to mine with violent urgency. It wasn’t sweet or gentle, or soft, or slow, and I was glad for that. Our time for that would come, but right now it was about marking him, and being marked by him.
He used his fingers to get my body ready, not that it took much, and when I guided the tip of his hard cock to my entrance, he wasted no time sinking into me.
I moaned into his neck, my nails clawing at his skin.
“I like you this way,” he said with a harsh exhale. “So needy, and wet, and tight around my cock.”
I mewled, his lecherous words making me clench around him.
“Dirty talk turns my girl on.” He nipped at my shoulder. “Your pussy responds to every word, and it’s sexy as fuck when I feel you grip me tighter.”
I squeezed his length again, struggling not to move my hips until he moved inside me. I’d learned to trust him with my body, and submit to him without fear. He’d never denied me anything sexually, he just liked to draw it out, and take his time getting there. It was always worth it though, the eventual drop into the abyss so much more intense after he’d worked me the way he wanted to.
“As much as I want to take my time and worship your gorgeous body, I don’t think I’ll last that long.”