Read Online All the Waters of the Earth (Giving You ... #3) by Leslie McAdam - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Leslie McAdam
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hadn’t someone hooked up with him yet? He seemed so giving. He took time for me. What were his other relationships like? But I didn’t want to ask him about them right now, so instead, I just asked, “You sleepy?”
“Yeah.” He pulled me close. “Goodnight.” And he kissed me, warmly, and it got carried away. I kissed him back, he ran his hand down my side, and then he rolled so that he was nestled between my legs again.
“Are we going to—” I started, breathless again.
“In the morning,” he muttered against my neck. Then he rolled off of me, tucked me into him, and I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke the next morning, in Jake’s arms, him sleeping peacefully behind me. Wiggling around, I took advantage of this unprecedented chance to study him up close like an artist would.
His dark, ebony hair was the sexiest bed head I’d ever seen. He had tiny wrinkles around his eyes that made him look distinguished. His full lips were a little pouty, the softness counteracting the angles of his cheekbones and his jaw, which was now covered in stubble.
God, even his neck was erotic, angled so that I could kiss it, with his Adam’s apple going up and down as he breathed. I started tracing his shirtless torso very lightly with my finger, feeling his light hair, his soft skin.
My fingers started exploring, and I couldn’t help myself. I found my fingers tracing the edge of his boxer shorts, tentatively, playing with the elastic, teasing him, even though he wasn’t awake.
Then I decided to really explore and my hand went lower, feeling for his cock, starting to rub it under the thin cotton material, taking advantage of his morning wood. This play was arousing me. I wanted him awake.
I rubbed his cock, at first gently, very gently, then a little bit more firmly, and he groaned, opened his eyes, and looked at me.
A happy look grew across his face. “I thought I was dreaming, but it’s better than a dream.” And faster than I would have thought he could move for having just woken up, he tugged at the hem of my cami and whoosh, it was off. And then he pulled off my pajama pants. And before I knew it, his hand, flat and broad, rubbed my pussy, spreading the wetness, gently, but rapidly. I could come from that alone, my feet burning up, my hands warm, and my ears pounding. He kept going and going, until I came, hard.
Looking at me with a naughty look on his face, he took one of his fingers and stuck it in his mouth, sucking on it. “You taste mighty fine for breakfast.”
I giggled, then I reached over to him, tugging at his boxers. He raised his hips to help me take them off and his cock sprang free.
Last night, I’d just felt it but I hadn’t really made its acquaintance yet. Now, on my knees, straddling him naked, I started to shimmy down his body, kissing my way between his nipples, down his belly, down, down, down, until I was looking at his cock.
It was really pretty.
I mean, I’m a romance writer and there are all sorts of euphemisms for the penis. Shaft or member or whatever. But Jake’s? It was a fantasy. The head was large, yes, but also smooth and not too purple. He was thick, but not too thick. Long, but not too long. Some veins popped out, but not too many. He was groomed and his balls were proportionate. All in all, it looked like the kind of cock that you wanted to lick or you wanted to be fucked by.
I picked licking.
Looking down as I straddled him (short girl taking note of the view from above), I bent and stuck my tongue out, then ran it, wet, the entire way up the underside of his cock, from the base to the tip, and he gasped. Then I moved and brought as much of his cock as I could in my mouth, getting him all wet. I could almost make it to the base if I relaxed my throat, which caused him to utter a guttural, “Christ, woman.” Then I repeated the move, licking him all the way up, then taking him all in, enjoying him moaning, enjoying him enjoy it, enjoying him writhe under me
“Yeah.” He pulled me close. “Goodnight.” And he kissed me, warmly, and it got carried away. I kissed him back, he ran his hand down my side, and then he rolled so that he was nestled between my legs again.
“Are we going to—” I started, breathless again.
“In the morning,” he muttered against my neck. Then he rolled off of me, tucked me into him, and I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke the next morning, in Jake’s arms, him sleeping peacefully behind me. Wiggling around, I took advantage of this unprecedented chance to study him up close like an artist would.
His dark, ebony hair was the sexiest bed head I’d ever seen. He had tiny wrinkles around his eyes that made him look distinguished. His full lips were a little pouty, the softness counteracting the angles of his cheekbones and his jaw, which was now covered in stubble.
God, even his neck was erotic, angled so that I could kiss it, with his Adam’s apple going up and down as he breathed. I started tracing his shirtless torso very lightly with my finger, feeling his light hair, his soft skin.
My fingers started exploring, and I couldn’t help myself. I found my fingers tracing the edge of his boxer shorts, tentatively, playing with the elastic, teasing him, even though he wasn’t awake.
Then I decided to really explore and my hand went lower, feeling for his cock, starting to rub it under the thin cotton material, taking advantage of his morning wood. This play was arousing me. I wanted him awake.
I rubbed his cock, at first gently, very gently, then a little bit more firmly, and he groaned, opened his eyes, and looked at me.
A happy look grew across his face. “I thought I was dreaming, but it’s better than a dream.” And faster than I would have thought he could move for having just woken up, he tugged at the hem of my cami and whoosh, it was off. And then he pulled off my pajama pants. And before I knew it, his hand, flat and broad, rubbed my pussy, spreading the wetness, gently, but rapidly. I could come from that alone, my feet burning up, my hands warm, and my ears pounding. He kept going and going, until I came, hard.
Looking at me with a naughty look on his face, he took one of his fingers and stuck it in his mouth, sucking on it. “You taste mighty fine for breakfast.”
I giggled, then I reached over to him, tugging at his boxers. He raised his hips to help me take them off and his cock sprang free.
Last night, I’d just felt it but I hadn’t really made its acquaintance yet. Now, on my knees, straddling him naked, I started to shimmy down his body, kissing my way between his nipples, down his belly, down, down, down, until I was looking at his cock.
It was really pretty.
I mean, I’m a romance writer and there are all sorts of euphemisms for the penis. Shaft or member or whatever. But Jake’s? It was a fantasy. The head was large, yes, but also smooth and not too purple. He was thick, but not too thick. Long, but not too long. Some veins popped out, but not too many. He was groomed and his balls were proportionate. All in all, it looked like the kind of cock that you wanted to lick or you wanted to be fucked by.
I picked licking.
Looking down as I straddled him (short girl taking note of the view from above), I bent and stuck my tongue out, then ran it, wet, the entire way up the underside of his cock, from the base to the tip, and he gasped. Then I moved and brought as much of his cock as I could in my mouth, getting him all wet. I could almost make it to the base if I relaxed my throat, which caused him to utter a guttural, “Christ, woman.” Then I repeated the move, licking him all the way up, then taking him all in, enjoying him moaning, enjoying him enjoy it, enjoying him writhe under me
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