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25
He pulls back to look at me, sobering some as his bewildered eyes meet mine. "Bella?" he asks, like it's a warning. I know he's thinking about our conversation back in the car and that he doesn't want to push me too far, too fast.
"I just want you to touch me." I take his hands and place them on my waist, leaning in to kiss him once. "I like it when you touch me."
He gives me a lascivious smirk that's so sexy it should be illegal. "Yeah?" He rubs his hands along my sides slowly, pausing to tease the skin of my lower back where my shirt has ridden up. "You like my hands on you?"
"Mhm." I reply, unable to form words because one of his hands has made its way beneath my shirt, and the feel of his warm palm against my skin has put me in sensory overload.
"Where can I touch you?" he whispers in my ear. He hasn't moved his hands from where they are on my lower back, waiting for my consent before he continues to explore.
"Everywhere." I whisper back. I want to feel his touch all over me. There isn't a part of my body I want to keep from him.
He released a stuttering breath against my neck. "Everywhere?"
"Everywhere." I revel in the shudder that runs through him.
His hands vanish from my back to bury themselves in my hair so he can bring my mouth to his, devouring me, and I press myself closer to him. I nip his bottom lip, pulling it into my mouth, making him release the deepest, sexiest groan that only serves to light me more on fire.
I gasp for air when his lips leave mine, trailing open-mouthed kisses along my cheek and sucking on the skin below my ear, making my toes curl. He uses the hands in my hair to tilt my head back, giving him better access to my neck. My fingers dig into his shoulders when his teeth lightly nip along the sensitive skin along my jaw.
"You can touch me, baby." His words are a rough rumble of desire in my ear. My eyes roll back in my head when he takes my earlobe in his mouth, sucking on it. "I want you to."
Up until now, my hands have been safely on his shoulders. The act of him touching me is less intimidating than the thought of me touching him. My insecurity over my lack of experience bubbles to the surface, and I freeze.
He must feel my apprehension, because his mouth stops its ministrations on my neck, and he pulls back to look at me.
"What's wrong, baby? Talk to me." He brushes the hair that's fallen on my forehead back, giving me his undivided attention. "Do you want to stop?"
"No." I insist because I don't want to stop. "I just… I don't know how to do this." I whisper my confession, trying to look anywhere but at him, feeling embarrassed, but he won't let me.
"It's okay, beautiful." His gaze is filled with so much understanding. I don't know how I got this lucky. "Do you want me to guide you?" The question is so simple, but it's exactly what I need in this moment.
"Please."
His eyes don't leave mine when he puts his hand on top of mine. Intertwining our fingers, he slides our hands until my palm is resting in the center of his chest. The racing of his heart matches my own.
"You're not the only one that's nervous, Bella." Those words make me feel so seen. "I don't know what I'm doing either."
"You could've fooled me." I bite my lip. "You seemed so sure of yourself."
"I'm scared shitless." He tightens his grip on my hand, swallowing thickly. "Do you know how overwhelming it is to know I have the privilege of being the one that gets to touch you like this? That you trust me enough to be with me like this? I'm losing my fucking mind."
"I love that it's you." I tell him, watching the fire reignite in his eyes. "You're the only one that I've wanted like this."
"Jesus, baby." He practically growls. "I have a hard time controlling myself when you say stuff like that."
A thrill goes through me at the implication behind those words, but instead of scaring me, they thrill me. "Show me how to touch you." I request with a newfound boldness. I was playing with fire, and I knew it. But the guttural groan he lets out makes it worth it.
Slowly, he moves our hands down his abdomen, and I can feel the soft ridges of his abs through his t-shirt. I close my eyes when our hands make their way under his shirt, his skin warm beneath my fingers. I can feel the muscles beneath my palm tense at my touch.
"Your touch feels so good, baby." He breathes against my cheek, placing a chaste kiss there. "I'll love whatever you do." His hand leaves mine in the same moment his mouth makes contact with my collarbone, obviously trying to distract me, and it works. I'm too focused on how good everything feels that it doesn't leave room for me to be self-conscious or to think about whether I'm doing it wrong.
My hands move of their own accord as I softly trace his abs, drunk on his reaction when he moans into my shoulder, saying my name in that breathy way I've become addicted to. His skin was soft, and I made mindless patterns along his chest and abdomen, enjoying the rush of being able to touch him this way. That I was one that had the privilege of touching him.
It was my turn to moan when his own hands find their way back beneath my shirt, running along my spine, creating goosebumps in their wake.
His mouth is back at my ear when he speaks. "Do you want to stop?"
It takes me a moment to surface from the haze I'd been under, feeling slightly drunk. "No," I tell him honestly. "I want more."
See you next time.