Forbidden Gold (Providence Gold 5) - Page 78

“Not going to lie, baby, I’ve spent some time looking at these wondering what they looked like with nothing covering them. I didn’t even know you’d had surgery on them until you told me.”

Was that a bad thing?

“I didn’t want them to be too big,” I explained weakly, suddenly feeling inadequate. I needed to get over that bullshit feeling, but this was Parker… staring at my boobs.

“They’re perfect. You’re perfect. I don’t know how you did it, Ari, but you’ve made something that some women take to the extreme look like it was made for you.”

The feelings of inadequacy slid away, leaving a sense of contentment. And horniness, I mean, I’d kind of been left hanging.

Before I could tell him to do something, he bent down and sucked my nipple into his mouth, flicking the tip of it with his tongue. The feeling was insane and felt like an electric current had shot down to the bundle of nerves that was literally screaming at this moment. When he was done with that side, he moved over to the other and gave it the same treatment while his thumb brushed over the tight bud that he’d just left.

I wasn’t sure if it was possible to come just by having your nipples sucked, but I was fucking close to it. Serious as shit, I was hanging by my toenails on the orgasm cliff, just about to plunge over it. I’d been warned by the surgeon that I might lose some sensation in the area after they cut it to put the implants in, but it felt like they’d attached it to my clit instead.

With each pull of his mouth around them, I raised my pelvis to grind into him. It was when he gave a harsh suck as his fingers pinched the other nipple that I ground up hard, apparently hitting his length perfectly. I shot off the edge of the orgasm cliff like a rocket, and, out of desperation not to scream, I bit down on what was nearest—Parker’s shoulder.

That’s how I rode out the storm, my teeth embedded in the soft, muscular flesh of his shoulder while he continued to work my breasts through it. When it left me, I released him and let my head drop back down to the bed with a muted thump.

“Holy shit,” I rasped, my chest rising up and down quickly as I tried to catch my breath. “That was… I didn’t even…”

I felt him move slightly and opened my eyes to see him looking down at me with a satisfied grin on his face.

“Are you ready for the best bit?”

I blinked at the question, wondering what he meant. “It gets better than that?”

“You’re good for my ego, baby,” he snickered and then started shifting his lower half around. Material skimming over my shins clued me into what he was doing—he was taking his boxers off.

Never wanting it to be said that I didn’t keep up, I pushed my hands gently between us to start doing the same thing to my panties, frowning when he wrapped his hands around my wrists and squeezed gently.

“I want to do it. Will you let me?” It was phrased as a question, but I knew it wasn’t one.

Nodding, I watched as he leaned down to lightly skim his nose across the skin between my breasts, just brushing them gently before moving down my abdomen. When he got to my belly button, he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of it and then continued his descent until he got to the waistband of my panties.

“I like these,” he murmured. “We should keep these.”

“If you ruin any of my Agent Provocateur, I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you,” I told him seriously. “I take my underwear selection seriously.”

He lifted his eyes to see if I was joking, likely thinking I didn’t mean it regardless of my tone, but what he saw there confirmed it—I really was serious.

“Do you have more like this?”

To use Sadie’s expression—did the Pope have a balcony?

“Uh, the only time I use anything else is during that time of the month. Otherwise, I like to be pretty under my clothes.”

His eyes widened at this revelation. “You’re telling me you always wear these?”

“More or less,” I shrugged.

I didn’t have the first clue what he was thinking as he stared down at them, but then he groaned and ran the tip of his tongue along the elasticated edge. Grabbing fistfuls of the comforter, I tried to hurry him along by shifting my hips slightly, but he was a teasing bastard from the gates of hell. The man wouldn’t move. He just kept alternating between his tongue and his nose in the same area—and really, there were better areas.

I was about to ask him to move when he reared up onto his knees, distracting me entirely from what had been bugging me. Why? Because he was naked. I might have seen him like this the night before, but nothing compared to what I saw right now.

Tags: Mary B. Moore Providence Gold Romance
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