Boston's Man-Eater

XXXIV

My blood was ignited. I felt dizzy from the fervent high that blended with her heat, her scent—I loved the way she felt from beneath my touch. My mouth was desperate and eager to unravel more of her.

In another life, where I would not have been passionately kissing, pulling, teasing Tess, it would've been funny. I wanted to pay attention to my mind that going into overdrive, but it still lagged behind in comparison to the inferno building between us.

My calves finally hit the bed, and my skin was layered with a thin sheet of perspiration. She pushed me onto the mattress, and her darkened eyes watched me in a way that said that she wanted this, wanted me.

I remember feeling so impatient— confused between racing and savoring her as I slipped off my shirt in one quick motion. Her body was undeniably provocative, and I watched her crawl up with predatorial eyes, hovering above me as her breath fanned my face.

"I must have you know that I don't orgasm," she said and I managed to let a confused frown slip onto my face.

"What?"

Her lips quickly found mine, with her tongue pushing through to gently caress my own. And when she finally straddled me, I couldn't help but groan when the contact proved exquisite against my erection.

I gripped her hips and watched the scene project into the dream I had in my sleep days ago.

God, Tess.

I failed to comprehend why a woman like her was there with me—wanting me— kissing me and about to have sex with me, but I wasn't about to let that distract me from watching her slowly unclasp her bra and drop it to the floor.

Of course, my eyes instantly snapped to her chest and I felt myself twitch when her breasts came into hindsight, further coaxing the ravenous sexual appetite that was digging into the depths of my torso.

She stared at me for a bit without an ounce of shame or embarrassment crossing her face. Her eyes were slightly frosted and I pulled her wrist and she leaned over.

I kissed her again and her hands found their way into my hair and tugged deliciously as I felt her hips begin to grind against me.

Yes, Tess.

"Kyle," she whispered into my ear and I quickly flipped us over so she was below me.

The action had taken her by surprise and I knelt between her legs, hooking my fingers inside the waistband of her laced magenta panties and slowly slid them down her legs.

I could feel her penetrative stare. I was a whole lot nervous, but the need to explore and connect with her body easily overpowered that, and so I slowly parted her legs and skimmed my fingers up to her inner thighs which made goosebumps rise on her skin.

"Kyle?"

"Tess," I mumbled hoarsely as I mentally prepped myself to relax and not go in all at once.

"I don't want to be slapped tonight."

"What?" I stilled.

Slap her?

"Why would I slap you?" I said and she knitted her brows and spaced out for a few seconds.

Is that what she...

"And no, it's not what I want..." I said and she arched her eyebrow with her eyes radiating something dark.

With the sexual tension between us fading, I leaned down and kissed her thigh and moved to lay at her side.

I looked at the ceiling as I listened to our calm breathing and gathered the words my heart intended to say.

"I don't want to hurt you, Tess. I could never think or dream of it."