Show Time by Ally Crew & Brynn Hale

Author:Ally Crew & Brynn Hale [Crew, Ally & Hale, Brynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-15T16:00:00+00:00

9

Iris

The length of his fingers wrap my cheeks in a firm hold. In the valley of his palms, I feel so small, so protected. That I feel this way is a mystery. I hardly know anything about him—apart from the fact that his name’s Thatcher and he resembles a Greek God. It’s obvious he’s rich. Very rich. And that he’s powerful. Very powerful. With him, I’m a thin stemmed flower caught in his stormy emotions. But something tells me, this storm is not out to destroy me; he wants to shield me and keep me safe from everything I’ve feared for so long.

“Thatcher…” My lips tremble his name, as his firm mouth skims mine, lightly, slowly. The brush of his whiskers delights my skin with love-prickles that he soothes with smooth pecks, the twin sensation wildly titillating. I tangle my fingers into his hair, as his tongue trails the opening of my lips. I part them, inviting him in. I’ve never been kissed before, I let him lead and he’s so sure and confident that I can’t help but melt in his hands. He takes me on a thrill-trip from there. A torrid romance of our lips through scorching breaths.

He demands, I give. Then he gives, and I fly in his gentle touch. It’s a fair give-and-take and I only want to give and take more and more.

When I think I might faint from lack of oxygen, his mouth stops chasing mine, to pursue the skin on my neck and shoulders in soft nips. Rolling shudders tap up my spine, spreading over me in one mottled sweep.

“Holy shit…” My chest heaves, lost in the sheer ecstasy when his fingers double up on the sultry onslaught, tugging down the zipper on my bodice and pulling the neckline along my arms. The silk slides down, letting the chilly gust from the sunroof caress my exposed breasts. I shiver, drawing my arms close.

Raw desire gleams in his gaze at the sight of my taut nipples.

“Fuck…” The husky rumble of his throat forces my eyelids shut, partly-coy, mostly-aroused. “Iris,” he dotes on my breast with an eager palm, “You are more stunning that I imagined you’d be.”

“You imagined?”

“Baby, I haven’t gotten you out of my brain since I met you.”

Does he have to be, look and talk so sexy? I’m a quiver mess and I’m afraid I might just come spontaneously like earlier. I’m certain this isn’t normal. It’s not for me. But then I think why can’t it be normal? Why can’t it be my life? I deserve to be worshipped and soar in the arms of a man who is obviously experienced and ready to show me how to make love.

My eyes roll back, as his tongue flirts with my nipples in quick circles, one and then, the other. Arousal courses down to my clit, wave upon wave upon wave rolling through the tiny pearl. Seeking a release for all that pent-up passion, my fingers reach for his collar but it’s being held secure by a tie.

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