Summer of Love Marie Ferrarella (easy books to read in english TXT) 📖

So she crossed her arms and took a strap in each hand and pulled with slow, steady pressure that made the fabric of her dress roll back on itself, revealing the upper swell of her breasts. She kept going until she got to the most crucial part, then hesitated.

“Jess.” The whispered word shifted her eyes back to his. But he wasn’t looking at her face. He was staring at the half-exposed portion of her body, the heat in his expression taking away the last of her inhibitions. She tugged, and he swallowed.

“You have no idea how much I want to drag you down here and finish this.”

“Then do it.” She let her arms go to her sides, making no attempt to hide herself from him.

He reached behind him and retrieved his wallet from his pants. Her mouth watered, thinking he was going to pull a condom out and do exactly what she’d suggested. And a packet did appear, but he made no move to haul her down onto the couch.

“Here or in your bedroom?”

“It doesn’t matter.” It was the truth. She wanted him. Badly, and she didn’t care where it happened, as long as it happened. And soon.

He smiled again and set the condom on his thigh, making her tighten inside. Because six inches north of that packet was a bulge that left no question as to whether or not he wanted her.

“Does that dress have a zipper?”

It took a second for the question to register, and when she glanced up at him she saw that he knew exactly where she’d been looking. That he’d meant for her to measure the distance between possibility and reality. Because nothing was for sure until he slipped that protection over himself and thrust into her.

“Yes.”

“Can you reach it?”

She nodded, her now shaking fingers going to the side of her dress, finding the pull tab then sliding it down to her hips, her other hand holding the rest of the garment in place.

“Let it go,” he murmured, his meaning clear.

Releasing her grip, the fabric slid to the floor, leaving her standing in front of him clad only in her panties.

She expected him to tell her to remove those as well, but instead his fingers went to the button of his slacks and undid it.

“Once those come off, honey, it’s all over.” His bald words made the breath stall in her chest. As did the fact that he was sliding his own zipper down and ripping the condom open.

She wanted to do that. “Wait.”

Wary eyes moved to her face. Oh! He thought she was stopping him.

Hurrying to correct him, she said, “Let me.”

He took the condom from the packet. “Next time.”

Next time!

Her lips parted as he drew the waistband to his briefs down and exposed himself. And unlike her, Clint had no inhibitions. None. Not the last time they’d been together. Not this time. His eyes burned into hers as he sat there. He toyed with the open condom.

The nub at the apex of her thighs tightened, making her squeeze her legs together, aching for some kind of relief.

She licked her lips. “Put it on.”

“First your panties.”

Hurrying to do as he asked, she hooked her thumbs into the elastic and started to bend over to slide them down, only to have him interrupt her. “Watch me as you do it.”

Shifting her focus back to his face, she finished, stepping out of her underwear and standing back upright.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Even more now than then.”

He finally rolled the condom down his length, and took himself in hand. “Now come here, honey.”

She moved between his still splayed legs and shuddered when the fingers of his free hand slid in a smooth move up her thigh and found the heart of her. Just the process of removing her clothing while he’d watched had made her body moist and ready.

“Hell. Just like I remember.”

By the time he’d finally touched her by the creek, she’d been shaking with desire. One flick of his finger had sent her over the edge. She’d been so embarrassed, only to have him shush her and tell her how much he liked it. When he’d finally entered her, she had already been riding the crest of that same wave, shattering right along with him.

The Clint of today slid one finger inside her, wringing a moan from her. He stayed there, just like that, not moving. She shuddered, needing him so badly she couldn’t speak.

“Spread your legs for me.”

Somehow, she shuffled her legs farther apart.

“Perfect.” He sat up straight, the pressure of his finger inside her holding her right where she was, putting his face dangerously close. Too late, she realized that was what he’d been aiming for all along. “How much will it take this time, Jess?”

Another reference to their first time together.

He added a second finger and pushed deep, using the pair to edge her hips closer. Suddenly off balance, she was forced to clutch his shoulders. “How much, Jess?” he repeated.

Then, as she watched, he moved his mouth until it was pressed against her … and let his tongue slide right across her.

It was as if he’d lit a fuse inside her. Her nails dug into his shoulders and every muscle in her body stiffened as what he was doing blotted out everything except the sensation of his tongue moving backward along her in a slow, drawn-out motion. The fuse ran out of line in a millisecond, and she detonated, crying out as his fingers finally moved, pumping inside her while she convulsed around them.

Then she was in his lap, his hands gripping her butt as he thrust hard into her, filling her beyond belief. She wrapped her hands around his neck, her mouth going to his ear as she rode him furiously, whimpering as her climax continued to crash all around her. He gave a muttered oath and then jerked his hips forward, holding her tight against his body as he strained upward for