Melt For Him(9)

By: Lauren Blakely

As promised. As advertised. In minutes.

“You can say I told you so,” she said with a loopy sort of grin as she lay there, feeling spent.

Becker bent over her, straddling her. He brushed a finger tenderly against her top lip and met her gaze, the look in his eyes both intense and honest. “I would never say I told you so. I’m just glad you liked it. I’m glad I could make you feel good.”

“I didn’t like it. I loved it. I loved your mouth on me.” She felt him through his jeans, loving the sheer hardness and length of him. “I want more of you,” she whispered in a soft voice that went beyond the mere want she felt in her body. She needed him. More than she thought she would. She needed this man, and the way his touch was some kind of antidote to all that had gone wrong in the past. “I want to see you with your clothes off. I want to see all of you.”

His dark eyes were blazing, and he licked his lips once, then planted a hard kiss on her mouth, grinding once against her thigh so she could have a tease of what he wanted to give her. She grabbed at his ass, pulling him against her.

“You keep saying and doing things like that, and it’s not going to take me long. I want to savor you, because you deserve that kind of attention,” he said, and Megan’s heart threatened to sprint out of her body. He was a wizard with his tongue, a gentleman with his actions, and a swoon-maker with his words.

He moved off the bed, and seconds later, he returned with protection and started to unzip his jeans.

She sat up straight. “Let me.”

He held out his arms, gesturing playfully to his pelvis.

“Come and get it,” she said, as if she were providing the caption for a photo of him right now. Funny, how she could almost see him posing for a picture, poking fun at himself. He’d be a good subject with those eyes, that hair, that body.

“And then we’ll both come.”

She wiggled her eyebrows. “I can’t think of a better idea than that,” she said, reaching for the zipper and sliding it down, then pushing his jeans and briefs to the floor. She inhaled sharply as she caught sight of his cock for the first time. Beautiful, long, and thick.

His breathing intensified when she touched him. His eyes zeroed in on her. “Tell me something. Do you want me to spread you out on the bed? Take you on all fours? Bend you over? Or do you want to throw me down on the bed, climb on top of me and ride me into oblivion?”

She held up one finger. “I’ll take one ticket on the ride to oblivion, please.” She moved her hands to his hips and shoved him down on the bed. Megan laughed as he pretended to fall hard, like she’d truly slammed this big, strong man down on the bed.

Then her laughing faded, and so did his as she straddled him, and took the condom from his hand, and slid it on him. Heat spread through her body as she touched him, thrilling at his reaction and the way his cock throbbed in her hand.

She rubbed him against her entrance, and sparks flew through her body at that first exhilarating tease. Hardness against heat. Steely length against wetness. The look in his eyes—hazy, hungry—told her he craved all of her.

There was something so frighteningly intimate about this moment—the moment before. It was the anticipation, the thrill, the wonder, and the agonizing wish that she’d connect with this person the way she wanted. It was the hope that he’d feel as good inside her as her body believed, and her body was a member of the faithful. Every cell in her longed for him, and her blood rushed hot and fast through her veins.

But there was also something nerve-racking about having sex for the first time—whether she was fucking a stranger or making love to someone she knew. “Becker,” she whispered urgently, suddenly feeling the need to say this. “I didn’t go wandering behind your bar tonight looking for anything like this. I just want you to know that. But now it’s all I want.”

He grinned wildly, like she’d said the one perfect thing. “Then let’s give you what you want, because I wasn’t hanging out behind my bar scoping for action, but now you’re all I can think about.”

He locked eyes with her as she lowered herself onto him, her brown hair falling in a tumble across her naked shoulders, her body so hot and ready. Her lips parted, and she moaned so sexily that the sound alone sent the temperature in him soaring. Her reactions, her pleasure, her sighs as she moved on him were like a fucking symphony, a gorgeous sound that blotted out everything else in the world. He was a giver; he knew that about himself. He wanted to give pleasure more than he wanted to receive it. And while he had nothing whatso-fucking-ever against coming, his mission was to make her come again, and to hear a chorus of cries and shouts from her as he took her over the edge.

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