The Unidentified Redhead - Page 28/36

his buttons open and pulled his shirt off him. He was reluctant to remove his hands from me, so his shirt hung down from him in back while my hands ran the length of his torso.

The smattering of strawberry blond-colored hair tickled my nose as I pressed myself closer to him, snuggling into his chest. I reveled in the feel of my skin on his, warm and comforting. His hands roamed endlessly across my arms, my neck, my back, my sides, finally settling on my shoulders as he carefully began to push the straps of my nightgown aside. It dropped slightly, dipping low. He smiled again as his eyes followed the curve of my skin, then returned to mine, the green beginning to deepen.

His eyes belonged to me.

As my nightgown lowered, one breast was exposed. He gazed with something like awe at the little freckle that was perched just above—his “landmark” freckle, he called it. He smiled, and his hands ghosted across me. I felt my skin pebble beneath his fingertips, and I heard his low intake of breath as he touched me.

I could feel him responding to my own arousal, and he increased the pressure on my breasts. I moaned my approval, and he lowered his head to me, stopping to kiss my collarbone and the little hollow at the base of my neck. He swept kisses down my chest, trailing a path toward my exposed breast. I giggled a little at the sensation, but my hands came up to his hair, running my nails up and down, encouraging him.

He captured my nipple in his mouth and I could feel it rise beneath his touch, while his hand kneaded my other breast. I moaned thickly, shifting my legs a bit at my own arousal. He bit down then, lightly, and the feel of it was beginning to drive me a little mad. My gasp of pleasure only increased the fever that was building, but he began to slow things down.

He pulled away from me, to my dismay. His face was a little playful.

“Where do you think you’re going, George?” I asked, my voice sounding husky and low.

“Oh, I love it when you call me George,” he murmured, returning to my skin, his voice thick and seductive.

His voice belonged to me.

He slipped an arm around my waist and scooped me up, the other arm hooking underneath my knees, cradling me to him. He walked us toward the bedroom, and I kissed his neck while we moved across the room. His eyes burned into mine as we made our way toward the bed.

“This is like a Danielle Steel novel,” I teased, and he rolled his eyes at me.

“Would you just let me do this my way, please?” he replied, blowing a raspberry on my neck.

I smiled bashfully at him as I saw that he had turned down the covers for us already, and then I noticed there were chocolates on the pillows.

“Candy!” I exclaimed, before I could help myself.

He chuckled. “You want to eat candy now, love?” he asked, nuzzling at my ear.

“No, not just now … but it’s nice to know that it’s here … for after.” I smiled, glad that he was still holding me so tightly.

“Yes, for after,” he replied, setting me gently on the bed. He leaned over me, kissing me again, more deeply now. Like an undercurrent, the passion between us was now becoming more pronounced. There was a need, a hunger that would quickly consume us.

I pushed his shirt back. and it finally fell off his frame as I began to work at his zipper. He groaned when I inadvertently brushed against him, and I felt his excitement underneath my hands. I looked back up at him and was astounded by the lust in his eyes, the green growing darker by the second. I pushed his pants down and they fell to the floor.

He was bare beneath.

I giggled in surprise and then licked my lips instinctively. “Nice,” I praised.

He grinned in return. “I believe you forgot something too, Crazy,” he answered devilishly, placing a hand between my legs and touching me through the fabric of my nightgown. I hissed as he searched for my absent panties. “I thought so … ” He chuckled, pressing harder on my already swollen sex.

I lay back, propped up on my elbows, admiring the view of my Jack, na**d between my legs. It was a sight I would never tire of—the lean lines of his torso, the muscled forearms, the tapered fingers, the lovely blond hair that led my eyes down to the heaven that was him.

With achingly slow precision, he slipped the straps further down my arms and removed the silk gown from me. I lay before him, na**d and wanting.

He breathed in heavily, almost gasping, and said, “Beautiful.” His tongue crept out, licking his lower lip in anticipation.

His tongue belonged to me.

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 breasts, 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 breasts, 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 breasts? 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 h*ps 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.

His breath belonged to me.

I enveloped him. I watched his face as he entered me, his eyes anchoring me as I stopped breathing. I felt the tears in my eyes as he filled me. He looked over the moon happy. I was frozen. I could not move. I was overcome with the sensation of him finally being inside me, and the feeling was beyond comprehen-sion. We both held still for a moment, lost.

Then I began to move beneath him.

Glorious.

I rocked my h*ps slowly, purposefully, driving him deeper into me. He let his breath out, and as I felt him penetrate me more deeply, I tightened around him, making him shudder. “So warm, you’re so warm. So … warm,” he chanted, sinking in.

He moved with me, making me shudder in turn as our rhythm increased.

I arched my back, and he pressed his lips to my breasts. He raised up on his arms, propping himself above so he could look down at me, and I gazed up at his sweet face, overcome with emotion as I moved with him, matching each thrust with a forcefulness that was driving me over the brink.

He pulled out almost entirely, and then he slipped back into me, driving me up higher on the bed. My h*ps repositioned and he drove into me deeper, filling me in a new way, creating a different sensation for us both. I wrapped my legs higher around his waist and dragged my nails down his back, eliciting a hiss from him.

“Grace, I need to see you,” he groaned, withdrawing from me and then flipping me quickly so that he was on his back. I swung one leg over him and then straddled him. He grasped my hands firmly as I sank down slowly, taking him in as deeply as I could.

“Oh, God, Grace, that’s brilliant.” He moaned as I began to rock against him. His hands released mine, and he caressed my breasts, rolling my ni**les between his fingertips, causing me to clench down tightly around him again, bringing another groan from him. My hands came up to my hair, losing them in it as I felt him, so hard, inside me.

He began to say my name, slowly at first, and then as my h*ps sped up, his hands gripped me tightly, and he sat up. I wrapped my legs behind him, this new position causing him to penetrate me more deeply, and I began to shudder.

The sensation of everything was too much, and the tears that had been in my eyes from the second he entered me now spilled over.

His words belonged to me.

I began to clench down around him, and I knew we were both close.

My mouth was right next to his ear, and I spoke his name repeatedly as he pushed into me. He felt amazing. He brought his head off my shoulder, urging me to meet his gaze. I was overwhelmed with emotion and the perfection of this moment.

“Open your eyes, Grace. Look at me,” he managed, as I dug my hands into his hair. I did what he asked though, and when he saw the tears streaming down my face, his own face broke into the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.