Part 53
He bowed and kissed her, grazing his lips against hers then pressing softly, before sitting up to shed his clothes.
He shook his jacket off first and tossed it to the opposite side of the bed. When he reached for the buttons on his shirt, she sat up beside him and used her legs, one on either side of him, and a hand on his shoulder to expertly maneuver herself closer to him. She stopped when her sex was pressed against his good thigh. She was hot, even through her jeans, and he'd wager she was already wet.
Damn, Cuddy.
"Let me," she whispered and brushed his hands aside.
He did as she asked and placed his right hand on her knee, which was bent and hovered over his groin. His left found her back and braced her. He watched her as she watched what she was doing, took in the details of her face.
She had fine wrinkles forming at the corners of her eyes. Their curve matched that of her eyelashes. Her nose revealed her ancestry and was perfectly sized and placed. His attention was drawn lower, to her generous mouth, when he saw the tip of her tongue briefly appear as the second button presented her a little challenge. Her lips were just the right fullness for soft, luxuriant kisses. Her other features — cheekbones, jaw, and chin — were strong but feminine, defined but not sharp.
She was perfection in his eyes, a diagnosis made as his focus moved to the kissable length of her neck and then her ear. Both were partially obscured by hair but that was easily cured.
He eased his hand up her back until he was able to move the curling strands out of the way. He lasted a heartbeat before he was overcome with the need to do more than look.
Bending his head, he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. He felt her hands still when he began brushing tender kisses to her skin. He loved that and how she swayed closer to him.
He kissed a path to her mouth without opening his eyes. He followed his instincts and used his knowledge of her topography to find his way. He felt her move in sync with him, closing the distance. A soft sound escaped him when her lips engaged his immediately. They were damp and warm. The kiss was tender, purposeful, and even in pace.
Like a metronome.
Then she tapered it to random kisses as she resumed working on the buttons of his shirt. He stroked his hand over her back then helped her remove the garment when she began pushing it from his shoulders. His t-shirt went next, between more kisses, then her sweater and camisole. He divested her of the bra beneath then curled his hand around her knee and he tugged her closer.
The throaty sound she let out at the increased pressure against her sex made him ache. He had never ached for another woman the same way. Maybe it was age and time, desire amplified by years of denial. Or maybe it was all her. He believed it was all her.
His hand sliding down, he cupped her ass and urged her astride him. She released his mouth long enough to do so, letting him guide her. He watched the sway of her breasts then caught her gaze briefly before kissing her again.
His hands moved unhindered over her back, caressing delicate skin, tracing the supple lines of her. He toed off his sneakers then reached for the zippers on her boots. She chose then to move from his lap but he didn't let her stray from his reach.
He helped her with her boots then her jeans and thong until she stood naked before him. Hands on her ass, he guided her to the edge of the bed then leaned in and dragged his mouth over her abdomen, tilting his head back to skirt his tongue along the bottom of each of her breasts.
She said his name and sank her hands into his hair. She mussed it as he set a course south to her sex. He kissed her curls then unfurled his tongue to taste. Her hands fell to his shoulders and gripped him tightly. But then she released him and drew him away.
Eyes opening, he watched her kneel before him. She divested him of his socks then reached for the waist of his jeans. He held his breath as she unbuttoned then unzipped them. There had been no hope of hiding his arousal before and there definitely wasn't now.
He shut his eyes when she reached her hand just inside and caressed him through his boxers. It was a gentle caress, loving, and he clenched his jaw. It felt entirely too good, stirring more than his physical want of her.
He lifted his hips when she started tugging on his jeans. She pulled them and his boxers down at the same time and set them aside once they were past his feet. She eased up to him then, still on her knees and he swallowed convulsively before reaching a hand out to caress her face.
She held his gaze as she leaned into his touch. Then her hands were finding him, one curling around his erection, the other sliding up the inside of his thigh. Then she was taking him into her mouth and he lost all ability to think beyond one thought:
I've spent too many years cheapening this act. This is what it should be.
Bowing, he kissed the top of her head in immense gratitude and sent one hand down over her back. He felt her tremble and she took him deeper.
"Cuddy," he breathed and opened his eyes to see the turbulent curtain of her curls draped over his groin. It was almost too much. He placed his hand atop her head and said her name again, in warning. He needed her to stop or he was going to come too quickly.
She heeded and slowly ascended, massaging every inch of him with her lips and tongue along the way. His breath fled and he struggled to breathe at all when she rose and moved back into his lap.
Some part of his brain was cataloging every sensory memory. The feel of her hands as they grabbed onto his shoulders. The way her hips shifted in his grip as she climbed onto the bed with him, one leg then the other. The smell of her sex. The extra moisture in her eyes. The sound of her voice…
"I want you deep."
Blindly, he helped her position herself to do that. He held her arms, hands cupping her elbows and taking her weight as she leaned back long enough to wrap her legs around his waist. He held her still when she grasped his erection and fought shutting his eyes as she stroked him. It felt good, but he wanted to see what she was about to do. He wanted that memory burned into his brain.
And it was.
He shuddered inside and out and hardened impossibly more as she sank down. The sight of her body taking him in was powerful and rattled his control further. He shut his eyes and leaned his head against her shoulder when she settled.
He relished her arms coming around him and how she nuzzled her face into his neck as she held him close. The subsequent whisper of his name nearly undid him.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to him at the same time he raised his head. He felt more than he could process and kissed her with all of it, wanting her to know what he was feeling, for her.
He kissed her mouth, then her throat, then her breasts. He kissed her shoulders and the bends of her elbows. He kissed every part of her he could reach while his hands staked claim to what they could find.
Skating touches over her back and along her legs and arms. He fondled her breasts, loving the weight of them and the gentle scrape of her hard nipple against the whorls and lines of his palms. He gripped her ass and urged her to move.
She did and he pushed up into her. She gasped and he watched her head fall back. He watched everything she did, that happened to her body as they made love.
He saw her break out into a light sweat, a flush rise over her torso and along her neck to her face. He saw her muscles undulate. He saw her breasts dance. He saw her bite her lip and her eyes flutter. He saw her sex accept his, all of him, repeatedly.
And he felt … everything.
And it overwhelmed him.
He held her hard down onto him, thrust up into her, and came, pleading for her to come with him. His voice sounded distant to his own ears, but hers didn't. It was clear and strong as she cried out.
She said his name.
She told him she loved him.
