She gasped when she felt his tongue there.
Holding the hand, he leisurely traced along her breasts with her
own fingertips. He trailed their course with his lips and tongue,
taking tiny nips at one breast, then the other. He squatted over
her, his knees on either side. His ponytail fell forward into her
face and she let some of the gathered hair enter her mouth as he
sucked her breasts with growing urgency. Her hips responded. She
lifted herself against him, pressed his head harder into her
chest. He held both of her breasts, licked beneath them. She felt
a chilling tingle along the back of her neck each time the fine
hairs of his buttocks brushed against her thighs. Gripping him
beneath his armpits, she squeezed his strong chest between her
hands and pulled him fully down onto her with all of her might.
"Slowly," he whispered, resisting her insistence. "There is no
hurry."
"Yes," she moaned, nearly in tears. "Yes, hurry, I want you so
bad." Never before had she been kept on edge like this, all of
her energy wriggling beneath him, wanting him. It had always been
Matthew wanting her when he needed, and she had always been there
to service him. But this was not like that.
And then she felt a new emotion that was both exciting and
frightening. "I need you," she mouthed without a sound into the
pillow.
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