I'm cashing in on my dare.
The pulse in her neck jumped, color rushing to her cheeks. I had been halfway turned on the entire time we'd been playing cards, but now I was practically buzzing with need, my erection pressing painfully against the zipper of my jeans, suddenly so aroused, I could barely focus.
Her eyes lingered on mine for several moments, her pupils dilated, her lips parted, before her expression softened into acquiescence—and something I swore looked like relief. She was going to do as I asked. A hot rush of desire headed south and landed between my legs, my entire body tightening. Holy feck. I watched as she began unbuttoning the buttons down the front of her dress, her blue-green eyes trained on my face. Christ, but she was gorgeous. I tried to hold eye contact, but my gaze was wrenched to what she was doing with her hands, each new glimpse of skin making my heart rate increase and my breath catch. When the last button came undone, her dress fell open, revealing her silvery-blue bra and underwear. She shrugged the dress off her shoulders, slipping her arms free. My eyes roamed over her greedily, and I heard a small groan come up my throat, unbidden. It'd been so long since I'd seen her like this, and she was even lovelier than I remembered.
Lydia. Beautiful. My everlasting dream.
Her hand moved tentatively down her flat stomach until she came to the waistband of her underwear. She paused momentarily, as if she was rethinking what she was doing, and I swallowed, desperate to watch. Desperate to taste, to touch. Just . . . desperate. Please don't stop.
"One summer day," she said, her voice low and breathless, "I was lying by the pool and you were nearby shoveling mulch into our flowerbeds." Her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her underwear and my eyes followed as if in a trance. "After an hour or so, you took off your shirt and used it to mop up the sweat on your face. God, Brogan," she let out a small sigh, "you were the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen. I watched your muscles tighten and flex, the way sweat gathered at the base of your back and gleamed on your chest, and it was all I could do not to move my hands just as I'm doing now."
Her lips parted on a small moan and she closed her eyes as her fingers dipped lower. My cock throbbed helplessly. Jaysus. I wondered if I might embarrass myself by coming in my pants before I'd even touched her.
"That night I was lying in my bed, and I was still so turned on. I kept picturing those lines on the inside of your hips and the way I could see veins on your stomach that disappeared into your pants. I wanted to trace those veins with my tongue. I wanted to find out where they went. I closed my eyes and let my fantasy take over. You had stopped your work and joined me at the pool. I pretended you had asked if you could cool off and then hadn't been able to resist the sight of me in my skimpy swimsuit and had come over to my lawn chair and climbed on top of me." She let out a breathless little whimper as her fingers moved beneath the thin material of her underwear, pleasuring herself. I watched, fascinated, as her cheeks flushed with arousal and the pulse in her neck beat insistently under the delicate skin of her smooth throat. My eyes heavy, my head foggy with desire, I watched as she used her other hand to reach up and unhook the clasp at the front of her bra, her beautiful breasts popping free of the lace as she shrugged off the skimpy material. Oh, dear God in heaven. My dick pulsed again, and I felt pre-cum practically pouring out of my tip, my blood heating another three million degrees.
"I pretended my own hands were yours, Brogan. I've always loved your hands." Her fingers continued to move inside the underwear she was still wearing and she used her other hand to run one finger around a nipple. I watched, entranced, as it puckered. She moaned. "You'd know just how to touch me, just what I liked, what I needed. It was the first time I brought myself to orgasm."
"Lydia," I said, my voice shaky and sounding as if it were coming from somewhere far away. I moved closer, taking her hand from beneath the lacy material of her underwear and replacing it with my own. Her eyes popped open, hazy with lust. I watched her for a moment, waiting for some sign of approval. She closed her eyes again and arched into my hand. I let out a harsh exhale of relief, moving closer. She brought her hands to my arms, gripping my biceps. The room went dim. "Lydia," I choked out. I didn't know exactly how to tell her that if she touched me, I'd lose all control. Please understand, Lydia. Please understand because I need you too . . . so much right now.
She opened her eyes again, comprehension pouring through the lust, and I let out a relieved breath. She. Understood. She . . . knows me. Reaching over her head, she held eye contact as she gripped the bars of the bed frame. My heart pounded more fiercely in my ears, blood rushing through my veins like molten gold. She was the only woman who'd ever made me feel this way. Mo Chroí.
I pulled her underwear down her legs and tossed them on the floor. Then I moved over her as she let out another small gurgling sound in her throat. "Let me show ya what I would have done if I had really been there," I murmured. "First I would have tasted your sweet nipples." I leaned my head down and rubbed my lips on her breasts, feeling the texture of her skin there—like hot satin—and then I licked one hardened peak, swirling my tongue around it several times before moving to the other one. Lydia's breathing increased, and she let out another sweet whimper. "God, you taste good, Mo Chroí. Like milk and honey. Still. Sweet and creamy." No woman had ever tasted this good before, no woman had even come close. I know your flavor, Lydia, and I can't forget it. No matter what I do, I can't forget.