Page 85 of Escape from the Green

When the material was over my shoulders, his chest pressed to mine as he reached up to free my arms, my hardened nipples brushing over the material of her shirt.

Shirt gone, his hands slid down the backs of my arms, then down my back, settling at my hips as his eyes held mine, not searching, not looking over the newly exposed skin.

Unsure what to do, my hands went for his shirt, pulling it up clumsily, my fingers and hands much less skilled at patience than his. But it fell to the floor along with my shirt, and my arms went around his back, pulling his body to mine.

His hiss met my whimper as his bare skin pressed into mine.

My lips pressed to his, slow and sweet and building fast much like the need moving through my body.

My hips ground down on him, whimpering when his hardness pressed into my belly instead of between my thighs.

On a sound that I could have sworn was a chuckle, his lips ripped from mine, his hand moving up to my shoulder, pressing until I lowered backward, my back hitting the mattress, my legs uncurling from under me to frame his hips as he moved up to his knees, towering over me, eyes finally starting to roam.

Down my neck, then chest, pausing.

His hand moved down from my shoulder, thumb moving out to gently slide over my hardened nipple, making my air catch before rushing out.

His hand closed over my breast, squeezing gently before rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, stoking the fire burning inside me.

I hadn't known I could be so sensitive, never having had the occasion to learn such a thing about myself.

But each brush of his finger sent off sparks that spread through me.

His other hand went to my other breast, giving it the same seemingly never-ending attention, making my back arch off the mattress, my hips to writhe in need.

Only then did he lean forward, lower down, circle his tongue over one of the hardened peaks, making my hands slide up his back, clawing into the skin as a new, unexpected wave of desire coursed through me.

Slide.

Suck.

Nip.

The beautiful torment felt endless, felt like it went on forever over each peak until my breasts felt full, overly sensitive, the skin flushed and heated.

His lips moved between, inching down, kissing the line down my stomach, his stubble grazing over the flesh, setting it ablaze in a way that said I would be left with a burn over the soft skin in the morning that I could feel whenever my clothes would brush over me.

His fingers snagged my pants, gently easing them down my thighs, over my knees, calves.

Sitting back, he pressed my knees into my chest, giving him access to my ankles, pulling the material free.

Naked.

It was right then I realized I was completely bared to him, giving him something I had never given another soul before.

I should have felt strange, exposed, vulnerable. Or, at least, that was what others might tell me I should feel in this situation for the first time.

But I couldn't find the smallest bit of nervousness, hesitation.

This was Drake we were talking about.

He'd been nothing but sweet, patient, understanding.

There was no reason to fear anything with him. Not even this.

He would be good to me.

He always was.