The Unidentified Redhead (Redhead #1)(58)
Author: Alice Clayton

I could stare at him for days on end and never tire of the view before me.

He leaned back, taking me in, admiring me as well.

“I love the soft curves of your br**sts, the lean angles of your arms, the flush of your skin, the roundness of your hips. Jesus, Grace,” he purred.

I was relaxed under his gaze. Everything about him told me he loved my body, exactly the way it was.

Everything he was doing, everything he was saying was making me ready for him, and I desperately wanted him to make me … what did I call it this morning? Hmm, see God.

He leaned over me, pressing his lips against my breast, taking my nipple into his mouth again, swirling his tongue and listening to me moan.

“That is so … unreal,” I murmured, throwing my arms behind my head and arching my back so that I was pushed up like an offering. My legs came up tight around his waist as he swept kisses across from left to right, slowly building me up. I continued to moan, almost in anguish as he dragged his tongue down across my stomach and circled my belly button.

“Oh, God,” I cried, as he fluttered his tongue along the length of my tummy, tasting the salt of my skin, smelling the scent of my skin that he himself had identified as a mixture of clean laundry and blessed coconuts.

He returned to my br**sts, taking each nipple in his mouth in turn, nibbling firmly as I writhed below him. He sucked on the right one before releasing it with a pop that made me arch off the bed entirely and bury my hands in his hair. My eyes flashed open wide, and I knew he’d seen my desire growing frantic.

My left hand struggled to dip below and find him, but he kept himself just out of reach.

“No, Grace, not yet. You,” he promised, caressing my br**sts again, marveling at how they fit perfectly into his hands.

“So amazing. Your br**sts? Belong to me … ” He moaned.

True to form, he would make sure to take care of me before himself. I had come to enjoy this aspect of his tenderness, of course, but it never failed to amaze me how much he enjoyed bringing me pleasure, putting my needs before his own.

What he was doing to me was making me crazy. My blood was boiling, and my insides were going to mush. I was moaning almost constantly, the feeling of his mouth on my br**sts was beyond description. As I felt him brushing his lips lower on my body, I cried out again in anticipation, knowing where he was going.

I felt his warm hands on my thighs, nudging them apart gently, tenderly. He gazed down at me, his eyes fixed in unapologetic worship. What had I done to deserve this man? As he settled between my legs, he looked up at me once more, his eyes meeting mine. I moved my left hand down to grasp his right, holding tightly to him. He smiled at me, as his lips kissed the inside of my right thigh.

“Jack … ” I breathed, keeping my eyes on him as he continued to sweep gentle kisses along the soft skin, moving to my other leg. He was within inches of me, and yet he concentrated his mouth along the tender skin on either side, eyes always on me. He watched as I began to breathe more heavily, every pass taking him closer to where I needed him to be.

I could see the need in his eyes, the want and the lust.

“Please, Jack, please,” I begged him.

His eyes, still fixed firmly on mine, spoke to me, answering my pleas. His mouth hovered over me, teasing me for what seemed like hours, but actually only mere seconds passed. Finally, he kissed me, as only he could.

His mouth belonged to me.

No doubt he could feel me tense beneath his mouth. He knew my body so well now, understood that I was close already. He dipped his tongue into me, slowly, knowing the reaction he would get.

I rose up off the bed violently and gave a great sigh. I was then silent, as I always was when I was truly lost. Using his fingers, he gently parted me, sweeping his tongue up and down, back and forth, and I began to moan again.

He lapped at me, more forcefully now, making swoops and swirls with his tongue. He pressed his fingers into me, curling, searching for that one spot, the one that I called my “J-Spot.” He’d chuckled the first time I’d told him I’d renamed it after him, but on later reflection, he thought it fascinating … and flattering.

Pressing his fingers down, he fixed his mouth firmly on my other sweet spot.

My breath came fast as I began to cry out, “Oh, God, Jack … please … don’t stop … don’t stop … that is so good … oh, God.” I began to rock my hips in syncopation with his tongue, his mouth and his fingers as he stroked me from the inside. My moans became his, as he struggled to keep me flush against the bed.

He ceased for a moment, looking up at me and grinning that devilish grin.

“Your taste belongs to me.” He smirked.

His mouth, his tongue, his fingers, his hands, his everything were in perfect concert, and with a shiver, I came.

I came hard and strong, and sweet tension ran through my body and out of my fingertips and toes and the ends of my hair. I chanted his name over and over again like a prayer, as wave after wave crashed through my frame. I saw light and love, and I felt another orgasm take me again.

I shuddered and shook, and he stayed with me the entire time … never stopping, keeping time with me and staying just ahead of every single solitary need I had. He knew what I wanted even before I did.

As I finally came back down, my eyes almost crossed with mad lust, I felt his teeth nibbling at the inside of my thigh, refreshing my Hamilton Brand. I smiled through my orgasm haze, thinking of his wicked, wicked ways.

His wicked belonged to me.

As he nibbled on my thigh, marking me as his yet again, I smiled, looking down at him. I rose up on my elbows and with one finger I beckoned him to me. He kissed my thigh one last time, crawling up to me.

My lips crashed into his, my taste still coating his mouth and he groaned.

He groaned for what he had just given me, and for what I was about to give him.

He raised himself up, pushing us both back further up onto the bed. I moved with him, still kissing him furiously.

“Your body belongs to me,” he sighed, sliding his body against mine.

He was between my legs, and with a start, he stopped kissing me as he felt himself positioned, exactly where I was aching for him to be. His eyes met mine, and with wordless communication, he asked my permission. His eyes asked and mine answered.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Then, with a tenderness I had never experienced, he pressed into me. We both stopped breathing as he entered me, sliding divinely through me, filling me, complementing me and loving me. Our eyes never left each other, and as I felt him fill me completely, tears sprang to my eyes with the pureness of what this had become. I watched his face change from lust to pure joy as he felt me welcome him. This was perfection.