《Dear Bailey》Part 61
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Lucas
She tasted like cherries again and I was sure she'd done it on purpose. My eyes were closed and I could feel every inch of her body pressed to mine. My hand at the base of her neck pulled her to me and my other hand slid down to her waist. My tongue brushed against her, slowly and needy and the same time. I'd never kissed anyone as good at kissing as she was. She'd tease, lightly sucking on my lip or letting her teeth gently scrape across them until I thought I'd go mad from want.
Inside my head I was lost in everything Bailey, her smell, her touch, her little sounds that were escaping as I kissed her breathless. My blood was pumping with purpose, making my head dizzy and my pants tight. I pressed a little closer to her, sliding my hand down to her ass so I could rub her against my body. She reacted with a sharp intake of air and I knew she was as desperate for the contact as I was. She rocked her hips forward at our contact and our kiss stuttered for a second, our brains were overwhelmed with the raw pleasure that was created when we touched intimately.
Our heavy lidded eyes met again, and while our lips were definitely parted, our attention was on other areas. She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back ever so subtly. I was drawn to the blushing skin of her neck and needed to taste her there and along her shoulder. My hand tipped her head to allow more access and I swept my tongue up from her shoulder to her jaw.
"You taste so good," I whispered purposely over the wet skin, cooling where I'd just heated it up. A soft little moan escaped her lips, and I sucked her skin gently into my mouth. I wanted to mark her, to leave a sign that she was mine, but her skin was just too perfect. I released it, moving my hands to meet at her sides just above her hipbones.
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"Lucas, kiss me," she whispered hoarsely.
"Where?" I asked, already knowing she wanted me everywhere. Her response was her hands on my face, pulling my lips back up to hers. I slid my hands along the curve of her waist and drug her shirt up with it. I stopped for a second to help push her jacket off her shoulders and then returned to the freshly exposed skin at her sides. My hands moved with purpose and they drug the shirt up her rib cage and gathered it just below her breast.
Her hands lifted from my face, and she stepped back every so slightly to give me room to take her shirt of. I almost whimpered. I wanted her so bad—needed her so bad it hurt. Her shirt was off in a second, and I looked at her flushed skin as it stretched across her chest and spilled out of the cups of her bra. She was fucking perfect. Every inch of her was just fucking perfect.
My fingertips moved slowly from her chest, down over the curves of her breasts, tracing a path of heat until I had a handful of her. I let my thumb move over the peaks, knowing I was teasing her through the lace of her bra. She arched into my touch and what was once gentle became firm.
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