The Virgin’s Guide to Misbehaving (Bluebonnet #4)(35)
Author: Jessica Clare

Rome groaned, his breathing becoming ragged. “How is it that you’re able to drive me so crazy with such a small touch, Elise?” His voice was a low murmur in her ear.

She didn’t know; her own heart was pounding with desire, her pulse frantically thumping as she skimmed her hands over his pectorals, then pressed her palms to them, covering more skin. Touching him was an addiction, and she was so, so glad that he’d suggested she do this. She was getting aroused. Heck, she had already been aroused, but this just made it all the more evident, the heat pooling between her legs.

“How’s it looking?” he whispered into her ear, and she shivered at the huskiness in his tone.

She smoothed her hands up and down his arms—big, muscular arms—to spread the oil, and then tried to study him from an unbiased point of view. But all she saw was candlelight gleaming on big, tanned muscles and black lines of tattoos bisecting bronze skin.

As she watched, he adjusted himself, his c**k tenting the front of his boxers. He looked huge and stiff, even through the clothing.

Elise looked up at Rome and her breath caught. There on his face, that was the look she was trying to capture. That sexy, “come hither and let me f**k you” expression. For a moment, excitement overwhelmed her desire and she grabbed a nearby towel to clean her hands off. “Hold that expression.”

“What,” he murmured. “The ‘my c**k is rock hard at the moment’ expression?”

“That’s the one,” she agreed, heading back to pick up her camera. She pulled off the lens cap and focused, and groaned with how perfect the shot was. “Oh my god, Rome. You’re so breathtaking.”

“Yeah?” His voice was husky with need.

She pressed her thighs together as she began to take pictures, the shutter clicking and whirring a mile a minute as she took photo after photo. “Can you . . . can you pose for me? Maybe flex a little?” He did, and for the next few moments, she directed him in a variety of poses. He turned his back, he raised an arm over his head, anything she asked.

But after a few moments, she began to lose his expression again. She needed to see that soft, f**kable look in his eyes. She bit her lip, thinking. “Rome . . .”

“Hmm?” His hand slid down his oiled belly, creating a fascinating play of light and shadow that momentarily distracted her.

“Are you . . . are you still thinking dirty thoughts about me?”

His eyeslids grew hooded again, immediately. “I am now.”

She continued to snap photos, fascinated by his face, his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“Kinda thinking about dragging you down onto these sheets and eating the hell out of your pu**y, just to see if I can make you squirt again.”

Her breath caught, and her fingers shook on the camera for a moment. The man just licked his lips. A whimper escaped her throat as she visualized that. “Here?” she breathed.

“We’re alone here, aren’t we?”

“We are.” They were so very alone.

“And you said you wanted some life experience.”

She continued to take pictures, closing in on his beautiful mouth and that soft, sexy look in his eyes. The man was oozing sex at the moment. She couldn’t wait to see how these pictures turned out.

“I think my eating your pu**y would be a great experience for you,” he murmured, his hand gliding over one oily arm, and she panned out to capture that motion. “Just bury my face in there and lick you for hours on end. You ever thought about that?”

His voice was so delicious and sensual that it was rolling over her like a wave. She was having a hard time concentrating. It wasn’t just his voice or the mental image of him doing that to her; it was everything. And suddenly, she was tired of taking photos. She wanted to touch him again.

She needed to touch him. A mental image flashed through her mind and her breath caught. Did she have enough courage to do that?

God, she wanted to so badly. Steeling herself, Elise set the camera down on a nearby table and picked up the oil again. She bit her lip, and then looked over at him, all gleaming and beautiful in the candlelight. “I think we need a bit more oil.”

“I think you’re just using it as an excuse to put your hands on me,” he said, even as she squirted more into her palms.

He wasn’t wrong about that. “Maybe I like touching you.”

Rome chuckled. “You don’t hear me complaining.”

She moved to his side again and stepped close, drinking in the sight and scent of him. Her hands stole to his stomach and she pressed them there, then glanced up at him.

His eyes were shadows in the candlelight, but she knew his gaze was completely, utterly fixed on her. Her breath catching in her throat again, Elise slid her slick, oily hands down into the waist of his boxers, her eyes locked on his.

Rome groaned, his entire body stiffening in response.

Startled, her first reaction was to jerk away and apologize. But his hands went to her shoulders, holding her in place, and she realized he didn’t want to push her away; he was groaning from pleasure. Of course he was. She was just being a silly goose.

She could feel crisp hair against her fingers, and she wrapped her hands around the hard length of his cock. This was her first time to touch him there—to touch any man there. She was surprised at how hard he was, and how much heat he gave off. Her fingers curled around the circumference of his cock, and she gave it a light squeeze, testing his girth. “You’re big.”

“You’re flattering,” he said, strain in his voice. He leaned forward, and his mouth brushed against hers. “And god damn, but your hands feel amazing.”

“Do they?” Her breath caught at his pleasure, and she ran her fingers up and down his length, wishing that his boxers weren’t in the way. The head of his c**k was wet with fluid—his pr**cum. She wanted to taste it, but her hands were oily. She’d taste it some other time, then. Her mouth brushed over his again, and she told him, “I want to stroke you off.”

Rome groaned again. “Do you?”

“Can I?” Daring greatly, she curled her hands around his length again and pumped once.

His breath hissed. “Your hands feel amazing.”

Did they? She stroked up and down his length again, testing. The angle she was standing at didn’t make it easy, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was his reaction to her touch, and Rome’s eyes were near-closed in ecstasy.

And she loved that.