Slow Hands

too. He wanted Maddy to accept every ounce of pleasure he could give her rather than rushing them both directly toward that precipice and leaping over it.
    “You have the softest skin I have ever felt,” he murmured.
    “Yours is rough,” she whispered, her voice throaty, hungry. Rubbing her face against his lightly grizzled jaw, she shivered and added, “Deliciously rough.”
    “Not too rough for your cheek?”
    She shook her head, wordless, mindless, as if afraid to distract him from the unhurried, steady progress he was making with her shirt. He’d reached the bottom edges of her bra now. Remembering their earlier encounter, his mind flooded with the image of that hot pink lace barely covering those magnificent mounds and luscious, taut nipples.
    “Not too rough for your neck, either?” He moved there, kissing his way down her throat, pressing his mouth to the hollow.
    She shook her head again. Lifting her hands to his head, she twined her fingers in his hair. Jake edged away just enough to smooth her top all the way up, his palms skimming against the sides of her breasts, then all the way along her upraised arms. He disentangled the fabric from her long, thick hair, then tossed it aside.
    Looking down at her, he muttered a silent prayer for strength, picturing the endless ways he wanted to savor these twin things of beauty, barely contained by their lacy covering. Oh, so many ways. Soon.
    “What about here?” he asked, easing down her body. “Too rough here, sweetheart?” He slowly dropped to his knees in front of her, letting his mouth skim past the very center of the pretty, frilly bra until he reached the vulnerable skin of her midriff.
    She hitched a sigh. It turned into a moan when Jake rubbed his cheek there, licking at the tender, pale spot where hot pink lace met hot creamy woman.
    “That’s…that’s fine…”
    “Good. So I’m guessing this is okay, too.” He edged lower, kissing his way down her belly, dipping his tongue into the small indentation for a taste, then going down to her waistband. She made no effort to stop him as he unbuttoned, unzipped, then pushed her pants down, letting his cheek come in contact with more of her body as it was revealed.
    “That is definitely okay.”
    More than okay for him. Especially as he drew back enough to watch her cropped pants fall away. That left her clad in a miniscule pair of panties. A patch of pink fabric danced over the dark curls he saw shadowed between her legs, and a thin, lacy string looped over each full hip.
    He rubbed and nibbled and licked his way along them, around to her hip, almost groaning as he saw how little there was in the back. Little? Make that nothing.
    Thong. Oh yeah .
    He had to reach out and touch with his hands, cupping her full cheeks and squeezing. “Incredible. Don’t you ever let me hear you say you want to change this body again.”
    The way her legs shook and her hips moved in tiny, nearly imperceptible thrusts told him what she wanted. More intimate touches. More intimate kisses.
    More .
    Still clasping her bottom, he tugged her closer, tilting her pelvis so his mouth scraped against the front of her panties. He inhaled her, breathed across her, amazed at the softness of the curls against his lips, looking delicate and so pretty, even through the fabric.
    “Oh, God, please,” she groaned.
    He could give her what she wanted. Could easily nudge aside the elastic, dip his tongue, swirl it low. Could already imagine the way she’d writhe when he caressed the throbbing nub of flesh at the top of her mound. Could almost taste the warm, womanly essence he was inhaling with every deep breath. He desperately wanted to lick into the lips of her sex and drink deeply of her, knowing it would take a long time to quench his thirst.
    But that would be getting ahead of the game.
    So, instead, he began working his way back up. “Now that we’re sure I don’t need to shave, where were we?”
    She whimpered, shaking as he passed by her most erogenous spots. “I take it back, you’re not a nice guy,” she said in a broken whisper. “You’re just being mean now.”
    “Oh, Maddy, I’m not mean.” Now standing directly in front of her, he tenderly stroked her face and brushed a soft kiss on her mouth. “I’m just very, very patient.”
    Without another word, he bent over and picked her up, carrying her effortlessly to the huge bed that dominated her room. And began to show her how very patient he could be.
    * *