Knight In Black Leather Gail Dayton (classic books for 12 year olds .TXT) 📖

are so fucking beautiful," she whispered as he reached her, and laughed when his face flamed red in its turn. "And you're cute when you blush, too."

"I'm not blushing. I never blush." Eli crawled onto the bed, working his body between her legs.

"Then why is your face red? Fever?"

"Absolutely. You give me fever." He quoted the old song as he slid his hands under her bottom and laid his head on her stomach. "You really think I'm beautiful?"

Marilyn stroked his head, his shoulder, whatever she could reach. "Yes."

"Thank you." He looked up at her and grinned. "See, that's what you're supposed to say when somebody pays you a compliment."

She had to laugh. "Thank you, Eli, for paying me such a lovely compliment even though we both know it isn't true."

He dropped his face straight down onto her stomach and shook his head, rolling it against her. "What does it take for you to believe me?"

"The truth might help."

"Truth. Nobody else in the world thinks I'm beautiful, but you said it. Did you mean it?" Eli lifted himself to his elbows, watching her again.

"Yes."

"So why is it so hard to believe I think you're beautiful, even if nobody else in the world does?"

"I...don't know." But really, she did. He was twenty-five and she was thirty-nine. It was an obstacle that could be ignored for a while, but never overcome.

Eli stroked his cheek against her stretch-marked skin and kissed it. "Believe it."

He scooted lower on the bed, still kissing her stomach. Marilyn shivered, looking down her saggy, baggy naked body at him. "Oh, wait," she cried. "The lamp. Turn off the lamp."

"Do I have to?" He laid his head on her stomach again.

"No, I'll do it." She started to squirm sideways, until Eli tightened his fingers on her thigh to hold her still.

"Leave it," he said. "I want to see you."

"Eli--" How could he say that? She didn't like what she saw and she was used to it.

He sighed, his breath tickling. "If you think you have to. But I really wish you wouldn't. Please?"

How hard was it for him to say that? She knew him well enough by now to know that asking for something--anything--was almost impossible for him. But he asked for this. Nothing more than to leave the lamp on while they made love.

"I hope you know how hard this is for me."

"I know," he murmured. "Thank you."

As he inched his way lower, kissing everything he passed, he used his hands to spread her legs even wider. Marilyn covered her eyes with her hands, feeling so incredibly naked. The lamplight had weight, brushing against her skin, exposing every little secret she'd hidden away. It aroused her, baring herself this way, opening up to him.

Eli kissed the place where her hip curved into leg and stopped. He backed away. Not far. His hands still gripped her legs, holding them wide apart. His shoulders still brushed her thighs, but she could feel nothing else.

Marilyn uncovered her eyes and peeked. Her nipples puckered and hardened and her sex throbbed, wanting him inside. He was looking at her. There. Just looking.

He glanced up, saw her watching him, and stared a long moment. What was he thinking? His hands slid higher and he looked back down. His thumbs parted her labia, taking what little privacy she had left, and she shivered, anticipating his touch. But still, he just looked. God, she felt naked.

She hid her eyes again, needing to hide something. How long was he going to torture her like this?

Eli laid his head against her thigh, making her jump. He chuckled and kissed her there on the soft inner surface. "You make me so crazy," he whispered.

He covered her with his mouth, and the electric slide of his tongue across her most sensitive places nearly brought her up off the bed. She could feel him smile as he did it again. She forgot about the lamp, forgot about her sags and his youth, forgot everything but what his talented tongue was doing to her.

She cried out, hovering on the brink, and instantly, Eli was up and over her, taking her shout into his mouth as he kissed her, tasting of sex and her own desire.

Nineteen

***

"Sh," Eli whispered. "Damn, woman, you're gonna wake Pete."

"I wasn't that loud."

"You could wake the dead, much less a kid just down the hall." He grinned, opening the condom. "One of the things I like about you."

"Give me that." Marilyn took it away from him. "My turn."

"Marilyn, I don't--"

"Tough. It's my turn." She rolled the condom down over him, hoping she was doing it right. She didn't have much experience with these things, but she loved touching him. She loved the way he shivered, the way he jumped in her hands, the way he looked at her when she did it, like he would spontaneously combust if he didn't get inside her right now.

"Dammit, Marilyn, it's on. It's on, okay? Quit messing with it."

Eli seized her wrists and pulled them away, holding them together in his good hand, raising them over her head. He rubbed his chest against her breasts and pressed his cheek against hers, breathing warm in her ear.

"You're so soft," he murmured. "It feels so good like this, skin to skin, both of us naked so I can feel all of you against all of me."

How did he always know the very thing to say or do that would melt her into a puddle of pure sensuality? She turned her head the little required to lick her tongue over his earlobe and draw it into her mouth. "I want you inside me, Eli. Now. As far as you can go and then a little more."

"Oh, God." He groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He lifted his hips and was at her entrance, no guidance needed, and he pushed deep inside her.

Already driven to the edge, Marilyn came apart with that first thrust. Eli swore. He released her wrists to shove his hand