Phase (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #1) (20 page)

I wrapped my hands around his shoulders, tethering myself to him as new sensations and emotions buffeted my body. His hands came to rest on my arse, his fingers kneading the muscles as he controlled the movement of my hips to his own rhythm.

A moment later, he lifted me into the air as he stood up. With a squeal of surprise on my lips, I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me the few steps to the bed.

“More room,” he grunted as he laid me down gently over the comforter.

I scooted backward to give us plenty of space.

When I stopped, I rested back on the pillow, letting my hair fan out behind me. Despite being in nothing but my panties, I felt more confident than ever as he climbed onto the bed to join me. While I waited for Beau to cover the distance to me with his slow, watchful crawl, my breathing sped. Halfway across the bed, he stopped and trailed his eyes over my curves. I would have thought it would have made me feel self-conscious, but it didn’t. The look on his face made it clear he was ready to fall to his knees at what he saw. I’d done that to him. And it wasn’t because I was purely some long-time fantasy who’d walked off the pages of a magazine. He’d seen parts of me no one else had and wanted me because of them all.

His eyes trailed slow paths over my body as he licked his lips. The way he looked at me sent the fires in me blazing again. Fuck. It was almost as good as actually feeling his touch. Almost. That didn’t mean I wasn’t desperate for him to touch me again.

“Please, Beau?” I panted, even though I didn’t know what exactly it was that I needed.

“Patience, darlin’.” His voice was strangled and desperate.

I lifted my head and met his gaze. Doubt and even fear danced in his eyes. “What is it?”

“This is as far as I’ve ever been with anyone before.” He crawled closer to me before lifting my leg and resting my foot on his chest. His tongue traced a path over his lips as his hands slid down my calf. “I’m tryin’ to savour the moment.”

He lifted my other leg and placed it on his chest as well. When his hands traced over the outside of my calves, the position left me hyper-aware of what was about to happen. My breathing sped, and I arched my back as he leaned forward, pushing my legs and lifting my hips off the bed.

I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out again, but it didn’t completely muffle the sounds I made. Fuck, I was that turned on, that excited, and he’d barely even touched me. What would it be like when he took me to the height of bliss?

He leaned forward further, tracing his hands down the outside of my thighs. His fingertips ran a path to the side of my boylegs. When he hooked his fingers under the cotton on my hips, a low growl of primal need built in his chest and vibrated through the soles of my feet.

As slowly as his hands had travelled the path down my legs, they dragged back up again, taking my panties with them. The feeling of being exposed, completely naked and vulnerable in front of him was heady—enough to make me drunk with need.

Instead of focusing on my pussy, like I’d thought he might, his gaze locked with mine.

When his hands, and my underwear, reached my feet, he lifted my legs away from his chest one at a time, just long enough to free the material from my body, before tossing my panties aside.

The song playing changed to one about heartbreak and longing. As the singer crooned about roller coasters and lost love, Beau’s eyes finally broke away from mine. His breath hitched as his gaze travelled another slow path over my body.

He wrapped his arms around my legs, coaxing them apart so his body could fit between them. Before I could prepare myself, he moved forward so his weight came to rest against me and then he pressed his lips to mine.

One of his hands trailed to my nape, and he used his hold there to guide my mouth closer to his. His tongue probed at my lips before slipping between my teeth to dance with mine.

Because his hips spread my legs wide, I could feel every inch of him pressing forward against his jeans. Needing to touch him, I pressed my hand against his heart, feeling the rapid beat against my palm. Without allowing myself to second-guess my actions, I let my hand trace over the sculpted muscles of his chest. Drawing in a steadying breath, I pushed my tongue forward into his mouth as I trailed fingers across his chest, onto his stomach, and down over the
V
that pointed the way into his jeans.

With my free hand, I fisted my fingers through his hair and used the hold to tilt his head backward so I could get access to his throat. I trailed my tongue and lips over the stubble on his jaw, revelling in the low, throaty moans he made in response.

When he tipped his head back down to claim my lips with a renewed passion, I slipped my hands down into his jeans. My fingertips brushed over his length through the cotton of whatever he wore underneath.

At the touch, his lips moved from mine, and he attacked the spot just beneath my right ear with his teeth and tongue. The action shot through me like a dart, aimed straight at my clit.

“Holy fuck!” The words flew from me seconds before I cried out with need.

“Oh, darlin’,” he murmured against my skin.

“I—I think you’ve got far too many clothes on,” I panted. I moved both of my hands to the button of his jeans. When I ripped down the zipper, he lifted his hips just enough to shift the unwanted clothing. As he settled back between my legs, I almost cried out in frustration at the feeling of cotton against my pussy. At least until he bucked his hips forward, brushing the covered head of his hard-on against my clit. Then I was beyond words or sounds outside of the strangled moans of pleasure that came from my throat.

His breath tickled my skin as his kisses dipped lower, running from the column of my throat down to my collarbone and then onto my chest. When he reached my breasts, he spent time exploring each one, tasting and touching until I could do little more than clutch his hair and writhe beneath him.

It was torture.

Exquisite, erotic torture.

And we still hadn’t even really started.

His lips moved again, peppering soft kisses against my stomach. As he shifted, his hips backed away from mine and I felt the loss immediately. An empty chill replaced the warm fullness I’d felt until then.

He hummed as his chin brushed over the trimmed hair that covered my pussy. He twisted to one side and French-kissed my inner thigh. My mind went into overdrive imagining what that sensation would feel like against my clit. I moaned as if his mouth were actually on me.

Instead of the satisfying touch I imagined, his breath blew across my skin as a quiet chuckle fell from him.

It took me a moment to catch my breath enough to speak, but when I did, I glanced down at him. “It doesn’t do much for my self-confidence if you’re laughing at my pussy.”

He laughed again, a little louder this time. “I ain’t laughing at that.”

I pushed myself up onto my elbows. “Then what is it?”

“Ya got a birthmark, d’ya know?”

“Ugh. Yes, I’m aware!” I fell back onto the bed with my arms over my eyes. Of course he’d spot the birthmark.

“D’ya know it’s shaped like a love heart?”

I was about to give him a snarky reply when his tongue traced the outline of the mark before his lips rested against it momentarily.

I whimpered at the sensation it sent through me.

“I like it.” Even as he said the words, his fingers traced the mark again.

They didn’t stop there. They travelled down to my pussy. Ever so softly, he brushed his hand down over me. The initial jolt of pleasure from his touch was so strong. It was too much. I tried to shove myself up the bed to escape it, but Beau’s other hand held me just tight enough to keep me in place.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmured as his hand trailed the path again.

“No. Don’t stop! I need—” My words were lost in an indecipherable mess as his fingertips opened my lips and his tongue touched against my clit. “Holy Christ!”

Another chuckle left him, but I knew it was because of my reaction and not anything else. I defied anyone to have his mouth on their pussy and not issue a thousand blasphemous statements though.

He continued his perfect kiss, his tongue brushing my clit over and over in long, slow strokes. My hips arched higher—needing more. With a gentle motion, he slid one finger over my entrance. He grazed his teeth lightly over my clit as he pushed the finger inside me.

“Oh God!” I tossed my head back and grabbed at the comforter with both hands, needing to hold on to something so I didn’t float away on a cloud of bliss.

He moved his finger, slowly feeling his way inside of me.

I bucked forward to meet his motions.

“I take it you approve?” he asked, whispering the words against my thigh.

“Uh-huh—holy shit!” I was going to agree but he slipped a second finger inside while I was speaking.

“I wanna see ya come undone, darlin’. Can ya do that for me? Can ya let go?”

I couldn’t answer because my teeth were firmly in my lip; every muscle in my body tensed and needing. I felt him move, but didn’t care because his fingers didn’t stop their perfect motion.

The tension in my body coiled tighter and tighter. I could barely even draw a breath into my lungs with the weight of my building orgasm crushing me.

The sound of something light hitting the floor beside the bed distracted me momentarily, but then he added his thumb to the mix, brushing it against my clit. Foil ripped and then a strange sound filled the air, but all of it was lost to the pure pleasure of his fingers moving within me.

I wanted to squeeze my legs shut, to trap the sensation between them forever, but before I could, he drew his fingers out. I whimpered at the loss of his touch until something new replaced them. Smooth and warm, something rubbery slipped against my clit.

My eyes shot open and I looked down my body. Beau had his condom-covered cock in his hand and was guiding it up and down my slit.

“Are ya ready?” he asked, teasing the tip in and out of my entrance. Each motion sent a fresh jolt through my body. His other thumb brushed across my clit and I was so close.

Every muscle in my body coiled so tightly there was nothing I could do but beg for release.

With my lip between my teeth, I nodded. Before I had a chance to change my mind—not that I wanted to—Beau had thrust his cock hard into me. The cry that left me was mostly pain as a sharp sensation tore through my pussy, and yet there was pleasure too because he’d had me teetering so close to the edge that the feeling of fullness set off the strongest orgasm I’d ever experienced. The duelling surge of pleasure and pain was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, or probably would again.

Before my cry had even finished, Beau’s weight was between my legs, one of his hands was in my hair, and his lips were on mine. My body twitched and shuddered beneath him, and around him. I panted through the sting and the orgasm as tears pricked my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he broke away from the kiss—still buried to the hilt, waiting for my body to adjust.

“It’s—it’s okay,” I said. And it was. It was better than okay actually. Sure, it stung, and I wasn’t sure how long the ache would remain, but the feeling of his body all around me, inside me, was more than worth the pain.

He touched his lips back to mine, kissing me over and over. I could taste my own arousal on his tongue, and the thought of the way it had felt to have his mouth down there made me buck my hips. When I did, his length slid inside of me.

“More,” I pleaded, bucking back and forth again.

He took the motion as his cue that it was okay to move again. As he moved, his lips played with mine, shifting between fast, light pecks, and deep kisses that stole my breath away.

He hooked one arm behind one of my knees, lifting my leg and increasing the depth of his penetration.

“Dang,” he exclaimed as he began to move faster.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I believe fuck works much better. Or maybe—”

He drew himself almost completely out before rushing back in.

“Oh God!” I cried.

A wicked grin twisted his mouth.

“Yeah, that,” I added, panting, as he drew me closer to the edge again.

I trailed my hand down his back, feeling each of his muscles contract and flex under my fingertips in time with his powerful thrusts. My hands dragged down to his arse, gripping tightly as I tried to push him harder and faster.

His hands came to rest beside my head and he screwed his eyes shut. I clung to his body, letting his lust drive him as hard as he needed. The sound of his body slamming against mine soon drowned out the music from his phone—at least in my ears—and a second wave of tension rolled through me, desperate for release.

Above me, Beau tipped his head up as his eyes screwed tighter shut. His mouth mashed together and the muscles down his back flickered in time with my touch.

With a roar, he found his release. The pulsing of his cock inside me was too much, sending me tumbling over the edge again—lost in the oblivion of him and me.

An instant later, the tension left his body and he collapsed on top of me in a panting heap. His forehead rested against mine, and his lips traced mine in a series of lazy, sloppy kisses.