Bloom - Page 51

I kneel on the bed at his side. I glance over his body, taking in every single inch of exposed skin. I’ve never been with a man who looked like this before.

With just a fingertip, I touch his bicep.

The skin is soft, but the muscle underneath isn’t.

He’s hard as a rock.

I try not to stare as I run my finger up and over his shoulder, tracing a path over one of his tattoos.

When I reach the center of his chest, my gaze catches on his.

He’s quiet. In silence, he watches as I circle a finger over one of his nipples before I move to the other.

“You must work out for hours every day,” I whisper.

That draws a hearty laugh from him. His chest rumbles with it. “I hit the gym when I have the time.”

I don’t. My exercise routine consists of knee lunges at the flower shop and jogging in place while I wait for the subway.

I haven’t looked at his lap since he took off his jeans, but I know what’s there.

It’s obvious that he’s a big man in every way.

I know that from his confession about the size of his condoms, but I see it myself.

Resting back on my heels, I trail my fingers over his stomach. “Your body is perfect.”

Patting a hand to the center of his chest, he shakes his head. “It’s not. It’s mine though, so I make the best with what I have.”

Desire pools inside of me. What he has is exactly what I want.

I should slide my body over his and let him take me. I know he can make me feel things I haven’t before. That’s already happening, and we’re not even fully undressed yet.

Tracing my hand over his chest, I move it to his chin. “Have you always had a beard?”

His hand lands on mine. “Do you like it?”

Nodding, I smile. “I do,

but I wonder what you look like without it.”

“Like a stranger,” he admits on a sigh. “Like someone I don’t recognize.”

I feel that way sometimes when I look in the mirror. I don’t know who my dad is. I imagine he looks like me since I look nothing like my mom. Sometimes my reflection reminds me that I’ll never know everything I want to know about myself.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks with a tilt of his head. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Taking a leap of faith is the only way I’ll get to experience more with this man.

When I swing one leg over him, he growls out a sound that shoots straight to my core. His hands find my waist. Holding tightly, he adjusts me in his lap.

I settle on him, with his thick cock pressed against me, and my hands tangled in his hair.

“Kiss me,” I whisper against his lips.

His lips part, his tongue darts over his bottom lip, and he tugs me closer until our mouths meet in a fierce, frenzied kiss.

***

Tags: Deborah Bladon Romance
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