Playing With Her Heart (Caught Up In Love #4)(36)
Author: Lauren Blakely

She presses her hand against her mouth. “I can’t take it any more. Just touch me. Please.”

“Take off your bra.”

She reaches behind her back, and unclasps it instantly, handing it to me. I drop it on the ground, then cup her br**sts. “So beautiful,” I murmur. I lavish attention first on one breast, tugging on her nipple as she moans, then the other, and the noises she makes drive me on.

Then I pull back. “But that’s not what I promised you tonight.”

“I know, and I want what you promised.”

“What did I promise?” I ask in a teasing voice.

“You said you’d go down on me very soon.”

“So is now very soon?”

“Yes,” she says, panting.

“Is now when you want to come on my tongue?”

She closes her eyes briefly, opens them, moistens her lips, and says yes. “I want to come in your mouth,” she says, and her voice is full of reckless desire. There’s something so wild in her, so untamed, as if she wants to be unleashed like this, and wants me to do it.

“Let me see what you look like on my stage with nothing on.”

Jill

I shimmy out of my panties and hitch in a breath. My whole body is vibrating, and I am lit up from the inside out. Every part of me is screaming for him. I’m completely na**d on top of the piano and he rakes me over with his eyes, making me feel like I’m the only one he’s ever wanted like this. I don’t know how he does this to me, how he makes me feel charged all over, but I’ve never been this turned on. I didn’t know I could be this turned on, but this man makes me feel like my body belongs to him, like he can bring me places I never thought I could be. Like he can take me way past this reckless longing into some sort of altered state of bliss.

“Jill. Fucking Jill,” he says in a rough voice. He steps closer, curves a hand around my neck, and kisses me gently on the lips, then pulls back to drink me in with his eyes. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. You have to know that. You have to know how beautiful and intoxicating you are to me. And I’m going to bury my face between your legs right now. Spread your legs for me.”

I am aching for him, throbbing past the point of no return. I want him so badly it’s like my desire has become its own life force here in the theater with him. I scoot back on the top of the piano and part my legs, my knees falling open for him.

Then his hands are on my thighs and I cry out. He hasn’t even tasted me yet, and I’m already in heaven with him so near me. He bends down and traces his tongue across all the wetness between my legs. Sparks of sheer pleasure shoot through me, from the center of my body all the way to my fingertips. I loop my hands in his hair, holding onto him and pulling him closer. I want him so badly, I want his mouth, and his tongue, and his lips, and I even want the bristly scratch of his stubble against me. I want every single sensation all over me. But mostly, I want him to quench this burning need in my body, because it feels like I might die if I don’t come. I know that’s not true yet nothing has ever felt more true, because I’ve been reduced to nothing but feelings, to the constant bursts of pleasure that he brings me as he licks me, his moans the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard in my life as he tastes me, savoring me.

I didn’t even know it was possible to be wanted this much, but Davis makes me feel as if no woman in the world has ever felt like this before, as if all the pleasure cascading through my body is happening for the first time. He flicks his tongue against my clit, and I grab his hair harder and buck against him. Then his lips are on me, kissing me between my legs and it’s beyond amazing the things he can do with his mouth.

Until I learn what he can do with his fingers at the same time. He thrusts two inside me, and my head falls back from the dizzying feel—the softness of his mouth, the roughness of his fingers. He swirls delirious lines with the tip of his tongue, all while f**king me hard and deep with his fingers, and all I can picture is him inside me, filling me up, stretching me. Soon, my world spins off its axis, sending me into a place of pure and absolute bliss, like every molecule and atom inside of me is vibrating, and I’ve never felt more alive.

Somewhere, somehow, I’m vaguely aware of all these sounds I’m making, these wild moans, and pants, as I cry out, and beg him for more and more because I’m racing, rocking against him, reaching for his hair, his shoulders, as I move harder and faster, my breaths erratic as I climb my way to the far edge of desire.

I am devastated by the feelings that wrack through my body.

I am undone. Completely and utterly undone for him.

I call out his name, and it echoes around the theater, reverberating across the walls and crashing all over the empty auditorium as I come on his mouth, his tongue, his lips. He holds tight to my hips, slowing his moves, but still kissing me until I can’t take it anymore, and he pulls away.

My shoulders heave and I pant hard, as if I’ve just finished a race, and maybe I have. Soon, I open my eyes, but I still feel woozy, as if I’m barely grasping at reality, as if I’m still living on the edge of a dream. But he’s here, looking at me, with the same wildness in his eyes that I felt moments before.

“Did you picture that before I did it to you?”

I press my teeth into my lips once then nod, still dazed on the aftereffects.

“You imagined me tasting you? You fantasized about me eating you?”

“Yes.”

“Was it how you imagined it? Coming for me?”

I shake my head.

“No?”

“It was so much better.”

He inhales sharply, and the expression on his face says he wishes he could take me now, yank me off the piano, and slam me down hard on his cock, and f**k me right here, like this.

“Do you want to f**k me?” I say in a voice that’s comprised solely of lust.

“Yes. But I’m not going to.”

Chapter 16

Jill

I wash my hands then dry them, checking out my reflection one last time. My cheeks are still rosy, and I have that just-been-fucked look still. I don’t think that’s going to disappear any time soon, and I’m okay with that. I toss the paper towel in the trash can, smooth my hands over my red sweater and return to the backstage hallway, then to the stage. I still feel like I’m floating, but there’s another feeling surrounding me and it’s harder to get a handle on.

Nervousness maybe? Chased with a touch of hope? I’m honestly not sure, and maybe that’s because I don’t know what’s going on. I barely even understand who I become around him, how I can spin out of my carefully constructed world of happy-go-lucky, everything-is-fine and transform into this ravenous woman grasping at pleasure as if I need it for my very survival. As if the release I feel with Davis has somehow become as necessary as breath and air.