She frowned. ‘I don’t have any tattoos.’
Big surprise, Jacqueline. I smirked. She had no idea what I meant, and I wasn’t about to explain it bluntly while reclining on my living-room floor. ‘I figured as much. Would you like to see the drawing now?’
The emotions flickering across her face were amazingly readable – confusion in the slightly puckered brow, desire in her dilated eyes. There was a touch of indignation, as well – but I wasn’t sure why. As she reached up and took my hand, her grip secure, one thing was certain. She’d accepted me as the bad boy her friends wanted her to have, and I would be an idiot to fight it.
I led her into my room and turned on a lamp as she examined the room and my wall of sketches. I’d not brought many girls to this apartment, and even fewer to my bed – and I didn’t bother with the lamp when I did. I knew the room by feel – the placement of the bookcases and desk. The night table where I stored drawing pencils and a small sketchpad, glasses for late-night reading or studying, and condoms. Finally, the bed, where all that was required was finding the centre of it. Pitch-black darkness – I led, they followed.
Or we just never left the sofa.
That was not for Jacqueline.
‘These are amazing,’ she murmured, and I waited, watching her eyes scan over the wall, letting her find her sketch, knowing she was hunting for it. When she spotted it, she sat, staring. I lowered myself next to her, all too aware that I was already half undressed.
She turned and watched me, and I had never wanted to read someone’s mind so badly. Your turn, Jacqueline, I thought, wondering how far she’d want me to go. I didn’t want to go one centimetre beyond it. Or stop one centimetre too soon.
I leaned to run the tip of my tongue over her ear, following the curve and sucking her diamond stud into my mouth. My tongue pressed against the post in the back and ran lightly over the flesh behind her ear, and she moaned softly. I nuzzled her hair aside and kissed her neck, licking her skin lightly after each kiss, lower and lower until I met the wide neckline of her sweater.
Going to one knee on the floor, I pulled off her boots, returned to the bed, and removed mine. I lifted her directly to the centre of the mattress, rising over her and waiting until she opened her eyes. She blinked slowly, one hand lifting and grasping my arm, drugged with my kisses and craving more. Exactly as I wanted her.
‘Say stop, whenever you want to stop. Understand?’
She nodded.
I asked if she wanted to stop now, and thanked God when she shook her head no. She gripped both my arms when I thrust my tongue into her mouth, unravelling me when she sucked it deeper still. I pulled away just long enough to tug her sweater over her head and toss it away, returning to run my fingers and mouth over the beautiful arc of her breast above the black satin of her bra.
Her hand against my shoulder stilled me, and I shook myself internally. Stop.
I drew back, but before I could interpret what she needed, she sat up and slid one leg to the other side of my hip and leaned over me, into me, and I dragged her down to kiss her, my hands smoothing over her shoulders and down her back. She rocked against me and there was no containing the groan that movement yielded, a coarse rumbling deep in my chest that spurred her on. Mouth angled and open, fostering intense, mind-blowing kisses, she rocked forward again, and my fingers found and freed the hooks of her bra and tugged the straps down. Grasping her waist, I pulled her higher and sucked a nipple into my mouth. Goddamn if she wasn’t sweeter than anything I’d ever tasted.
Her arms wobbled as she panted her satisfaction, and I rolled her under me, sweeping my tongue over the other breast, teasing the nipple to a hard nub before sucking it deep. My fingers forked into her hair at the nape, holding her mouth to be kissed as I stroked my opposite palm down her side and returned my mouth to hers. When she arched against me, I unbuttoned her jeans and pinched the zipper between my fingers.
Breaking the kiss, she gasped, ‘Wait,’ and I went motionless, watching her. She panted, looking up at me, a worried crease touching her forehead.
‘Stop?’ I asked, and she nodded, catching her swollen lip in her mouth. ‘Stop everything, or just go no further?’
She paused before answering, and I wanted to tell her how far I would go to give her exactly what she needed – that I would do, or not do, whatever she wanted from me.
Her answer was almost inaudible. ‘Just … just no further.’
My body geared up for a battle of restraint, but my mind rejoiced. ‘Done.’ I pulled her back into my arms and kept my hands and mouth above her waist or over her jeans, clasping her hips to drag her along my thigh, creating strokes of friction and employing the benefits of gravity. She minded none of it.
I turned her on to her stomach and moved her hair aside to kiss the nape of her neck, and she sighed, relaxing. The soft hairs tickled my nose and I smiled, running my tongue over the small rise of each vertebra, moving lower as I knelt over her, massaging with long strokes of my hands – over her hips and thighs, to her calves and back up. I squeezed her hip and she giggled, so I pressed a kiss to her mid-back and flipped her over, sucking a nipple into my mouth. Her laughter cut short and she plunged her hands into my hair and held me, trembling.
Sliding to her side, I didn’t have to coax her to follow – she turned with me, alongside me, dipping her knee between my legs as we kissed. My hand inched from her hip to her thigh, prodding her, begging just enough room to sink between us. She shifted and I slipped my fingers between her legs. ‘This okay?’ I asked, and she nodded and pressed against me, her small fingers tight round my bicep.
I stroked the tips of my fingers over the denim and she moaned in response. Come, baby, I urged silently and leaned to kiss her, stretching her mouth wide and sinking into her. Heat radiated from her body against my hand, and I knew her imagination was filling in the blanks as my tongue thrust into her warm mouth and my fingers found the exact spot to orbit in gentle, measured circles, the exact pressure that tumbled her over the brink.
When she fell, she tore her mouth from mine and muffled her cries against my shoulder, her nails scoring my arms. Her breathing slowed and softened, and she shuddered one final time as I withdrew my hand.
Moments later, she touched her fingers to the button of my jeans. Without raising her eyes, she said, ‘I should, um …’
I tipped her chin and stared into those blue, blue depths. ‘Leave me something to anticipate,’ I whispered, kissing her gently.