Live For Me (Blurred Lines #2)(42)
Author: Erin McCarthy

He took his zipper down and shed his jeans, kicking them off his feet. Then he peeled his boxer briefs off and ended up standing in front of me completely naked. His thighs were muscular, his stomach the same, fit and with intriguing lines I wanted to explore with my tongue. I swallowed hard, a hot rush of desire flooding both my mouth and my panties. He was hard and sexy and he was mine.

More than my lover. More than my boyfriend. My future husband.

The man I loved. I would be his wife and that was more amazing than any of this.

His erection bounced a little as he moved closer to me and I stared at it. It was fascinating, all smooth skin, tight testicles capping the bottom of his shaft. Without thinking, I reached out and touched it, curious what it would feel like. When he groaned, I looked up at him in question. “What?”

He didn’t answer the question. He just said, “Stroke it. Please.”

I wasn’t sure how to exactly, but I experimented, gripping him, and sliding my hand up and down the length of him. I could tell when he approved, because he made a sound in the back of his throat and his erection actually jumped a little in my hand. But there was too much friction to comfortably stroke him any faster so I tentatively covered the tip with my mouth, knowing salvia would be helpful. I may not have been a sexual expert, but it wasn’t like I didn’t have a clue what was what. I had watched movies, even what could be considered  p**n , out of curiosity. I’d seen blow jobs, or emulations of them. I never went into any situation without doing my research. But watching was easier than doing.

Devin murmured my name. “That’s right, baby, I like that a lot.”

It was all the encouragement I needed. I tried to take him all the way, but I didn’t open my throat and didn’t get very far. But I did manage to succeed in lubing him up with my saliva, so I went back to stroking him with my hand, this time much more successfully. I tested squeezing him tighter, and was rewarded with a soft curse. I explored his balls, tickling over them, amazed at their tight skin.

But Devin put his hands on my head and tilted me so I was forced to look up at him. “If you’re doing this to get out of taking your clothes off, you can just stop. I’m not changing my mind on that.”

“No,” I said, shocked. “I did it because I wanted to touch it. You.” I still didn’t think I could stand in front of him and bare it all, but my body was responding already to his, to the sensation of his skin, his scent. To his clear arousal.

“Good. But just so you know I’m not taking your clothes off. So if you want them off you have to do it. Standing up. I need to know you’re not going here, doing this, just to please me.”

“Don’t you trust me?” I asked, even as my ni**les tightened at his words. He sounded like he wanted to thrown me down and f**k me hard, but he was restraining himself completely. I wasn’t sure how we’d gotten there, but I did know that I was one hundred percent turned on and ready to have sex with him. “I won’t manipulate you. That’s not me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Of course that’s not you.” He bent over and kissed me, hard. “I need to go find a condom.”

“I have some.”

“You do?” Devin looked scandalized.

Climbing off the bed, I went to my bathroom. “It seemed good to be prepared.” For him. I had bought them on a trip to town, on impulse. Impulse and optimism.

“I don’t even know what to think about that.”

Quickly retrieving them, I went back to the bedroom. Devin was sprawled out on the bed, gloriously naked, hands behind his head. The sight brought me up short. He was hot. I wasn’t sure I was truly entitled to all that sexy man.

But I knew that I had been brought to Richfield for a reason. That I was entitled to him, and his love. That maybe he was my reward for a lifetime of loneliness.

“Don’t think anything about it all. Just use it.” I tossed the condoms down next to him on the nightstand.

Then I took a deep breath and stood next to the bed. I knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t back down, and if he wasn’t feeling indulgent, he wasn’t going to give in. For whatever reason, he wanted me to be the one to take my clothes off. I didn’t want to at all, but I had to. I had to prove to him that I was adult enough to satisfy him, that I was a woman. That I wasn’t willing to have sex with him purely for his pleasure. I wanted the pleasure for me as well.

So I started to take down my jeans, wiggling to get them off. Devin just watched me, slowly, carefully. When they were at my feet, I bent over and pulled them off. This wasn’t so hard. I didn’t feel uncomfortable. I peeled my socks off too, then reached behind me for my bra hook. But then I realized that would be a better thing to do standing up, not bending over. Getting a little flustered, I shot back up, elbows at an odd angle, hands still behind my back.

Without any urgency, Devin reached over to the nightstand and pulled the box of condoms towards him.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m hard. I want you desperately. I’m putting a condom on to help me control myself.”

“Do you really want me?” I asked, hating myself for asking it. But doing it anyway.

“God, yes. I want you the way I’ve never wanted anyone ever.”

That was enough to have me popping my bra hook and sliding the straps down my arms. I held the cups against my br**sts in a last attempt at modesty. At hiding myself from him. But then I realized Devin had already seen all there was to see of me. He’d seen inside me. He’d listened to my thoughts, my heart. It made total sense that he should be the one man I could trust to see my body completely bare.

So I dropped the bra.

Took down my panties.

And stood in front of him, heart racing, mouth hot, but confident.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “I am the luckiest man alive.”

Somehow, when he said it, I believed him.

When he held out his hand for me, I took it, climbing on top of him. I didn’t know what I was doing exactly I just knew I wanted to feel my skin on his. I laid my chest on his, legs over his, the soft hair on his thighs tickling my flesh. We both sighed. It felt delicious. Intimate. Everything I had always imagined.

He lowered my head to his and there was nothing between us, no barrier, physical or emotional. I didn’t kiss him immediately. I just touched his face, slid my foot over his calf, drew my lips across his earlobe, inhaling his scent. When I did kiss him, it was slow, languid, our understanding of each other complete, our needs in tandem.