Delayed Satisfaction by Lauren Blakely

Author:Lauren Blakely [Blakely, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little Dog Press
Published: 2019-06-21T18:00:00+00:00

5

Sloane

He lingers on my lips as if he’s delighting in every second of the exploration, every moment of the connection, like a chef would when tasting a new concoction.

He laces his fingers through my hair and tugs me closer, and if I were an old robot in a sci-fi flick, I’d boop, beep, and short-circuit, then fry out.

Because holy overload of sensation. Sweet, hot sparks rush across me, sweeping over every square inch. My pulse skyrockets, and desire winds its way through every cell.

This man can kiss. And something else I know?

This man wants me.

Badly.

He’s pressed against me, the delicious length of him thick and insistent, a tantalizing tease of what’s to come.

Namely, me.

In a flash, I can see the night playing out. We go to his place or a hotel. He gets me naked, sends me soaring, and we have pancakes in the morning.

I do love orgasms and pancakes.

But something feels different with this guy.

Not like he can’t give me orgasms and pancakes.

But something tells me he’s not the guy you go to bone town with on the first night. I bet when I go there with him, it’ll be an all-night-long seduction. It’ll be moonlight and fireworks and luxurious time spent exploring my body, learning my every desire, pleasuring me until I can’t see straight. That’s how he kisses. Like a man intent on delivering bliss to the woman he’s with. To the woman he wants. And that woman is me.

This feels like it has potential. So much potential to be real. As he deepens the kiss, my mind blurs into the sort of bliss that only an epic first kiss can deliver. It’s an unraveling kind. He kisses with his whole body, with passion and fervor and heat.

And I know—I’m certain—he’s not a one-and-done guy.

But since I’m a straightforward woman, and I want him to know my score, I break the kiss, press my hands to his chest, and sigh happily, albeit a little woozily. “You sure can kiss.”

His lips quirk up in a lopsided grin. “It helps that I’ve been thinking all night about kissing you.”

I clear the frog from my throat. “But listen. I need you to know I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl. As much as I’d like to strip you naked and do bad things to you—”

“What kinds of bad things?” He wiggles his brow. “I like bad things. Feel free to elaborate, and please be as specific as you can.”

I laugh. “All kinds. All kinds involving lips and mouths and tongues and more. But don’t distract me.”

He murmurs his appreciation as he wraps his hand around my hip. “You distracted me. You definitely distract me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The term of endearment floods me with warmth, like I’m glowing. I try to center myself and focus on what I’m trying to tell him. “As I was saying, I want to take things slow. If that doesn’t work for you, I understand. But it’s the only way that will work for me.”

He lowers his hands, finds mine, threads his fingers through them, and squeezes.

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