Delay of Game (The Baltimore Banners Book 6) by Lisa B. Kamps Page A
Authors: Lisa B. Kamps
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caressing. Justin tugged at her slacks, pushing them down past her hips, his fingers skimming her flesh.
The outside of her thigh, her hip, up along her side, under her sweater to the swell of her breast. His thumb teased her nipple through the lace bra, soft and rough, gentle and teasing.
Val lifted her hips, searching, needing more. Too many clothes, too many barriers. She heard herself moan, surprised at the sound, at the need and desperation.
Justin dragged his mouth from hers, trailed his lips up to her ear and nipped at the lobe. Val's back arched, her hands digging into the corded steel of his biceps. He murmured something, his voice a gravelly whisper, his breath hot against her skin. She shook her head, trying to tell him she couldn't hear. And then she couldn't think, because his hands were all over her, touching, caressing, teasing. He moved down her body, pushing to his knees as he straddled her. Val thrust her hips forward, searching, needing to feel more of him. He tightened his legs around her thighs, holding her still. Then he leaned forward, pushing her sweater up, up further, easing it off her arms and over her head.
He stared down at her, his gaze so focused, so heated, her skin burned. Then he reached out with one finger and trailed the tip along her flesh. From the line of her neck to her collarbone, down to trace the swell of each breast at the edge of the lacy material. Over and over, back and forth. Her nipples tightened, straining at the lace, waiting for his touch.
Val's breath was nothing more than shallow gasps of need, of anticipation. She wanted him to touch her, to feel his hands on her, to feel his tongue swirl around the hardened peaks.
"Justin, please."
His gaze slid from her breasts to her eyes. The desire, the heat, the need in his dark eyes burned her as much as his touch. She lifted her hand, cupped his cheek against her palm and traced his lower lip with her thumb. He turned his head and captured her thumb in his mouth, sucking gently before nipping.
Val gasped, the ache between her legs growing, pooling. She tried to lift her hips, to ease the ache, but Justin shifted, holding her still with the barest squeeze of his legs around hers.
"Justin."
"Shh. Not yet." He nipped her thumb one last time then took her hand in his, stretched her arm over her head and held it there. He shifted, just the smallest bit, his mouth lowering to her chest.
Liquid heat filled her as his mouth closed over one nipple, his tongue teasing it through the lace. Val's breath escaped in a hiss, her back arching as sensation ripped through her.
Justin moved to her other breast, teasing and nipping, always through the lace. He ran the fingers of his free hand along her neck, down her breastbone, the touch gentle, searing. Then his fingers slipped under the lace of her bra, sliding it down, freeing first one breast then the other.
Then God, yes, his mouth was there, his tongue swirling around her nipple, sucking. His teeth closed over the tight peak, nipping gently, licking again, sucking.
Her back arched, her heels digging into the mattress, but she still couldn't move. Pressure was building, knotting her stomach, coiling tight between her legs.
"Justin."
He ignored her cry, filled with breathless need, his mouth moving from one breast to the other. She reached down with her free hand, tangled it in his hair, holding him in place as he sucked, licked, teased.
Too much, not enough. Val threw her head back, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling with each harsh breath, with each gasp. Justin's hand tightened around hers for a brief second then released it. He trailed his fingers along her arm, cupped her breast and squeezed, his thumb grazing the hard peak of her nipple. Then he moved, sliding down her body, his mouth and tongue trailing fire, dipping into her navel, down even more, teasing the swell of hip.
Justin shifted, his strong legs no longer holding her own together. He grabbed her
The outside of her thigh, her hip, up along her side, under her sweater to the swell of her breast. His thumb teased her nipple through the lace bra, soft and rough, gentle and teasing.
Val lifted her hips, searching, needing more. Too many clothes, too many barriers. She heard herself moan, surprised at the sound, at the need and desperation.
Justin dragged his mouth from hers, trailed his lips up to her ear and nipped at the lobe. Val's back arched, her hands digging into the corded steel of his biceps. He murmured something, his voice a gravelly whisper, his breath hot against her skin. She shook her head, trying to tell him she couldn't hear. And then she couldn't think, because his hands were all over her, touching, caressing, teasing. He moved down her body, pushing to his knees as he straddled her. Val thrust her hips forward, searching, needing to feel more of him. He tightened his legs around her thighs, holding her still. Then he leaned forward, pushing her sweater up, up further, easing it off her arms and over her head.
He stared down at her, his gaze so focused, so heated, her skin burned. Then he reached out with one finger and trailed the tip along her flesh. From the line of her neck to her collarbone, down to trace the swell of each breast at the edge of the lacy material. Over and over, back and forth. Her nipples tightened, straining at the lace, waiting for his touch.
Val's breath was nothing more than shallow gasps of need, of anticipation. She wanted him to touch her, to feel his hands on her, to feel his tongue swirl around the hardened peaks.
"Justin, please."
His gaze slid from her breasts to her eyes. The desire, the heat, the need in his dark eyes burned her as much as his touch. She lifted her hand, cupped his cheek against her palm and traced his lower lip with her thumb. He turned his head and captured her thumb in his mouth, sucking gently before nipping.
Val gasped, the ache between her legs growing, pooling. She tried to lift her hips, to ease the ache, but Justin shifted, holding her still with the barest squeeze of his legs around hers.
"Justin."
"Shh. Not yet." He nipped her thumb one last time then took her hand in his, stretched her arm over her head and held it there. He shifted, just the smallest bit, his mouth lowering to her chest.
Liquid heat filled her as his mouth closed over one nipple, his tongue teasing it through the lace. Val's breath escaped in a hiss, her back arching as sensation ripped through her.
Justin moved to her other breast, teasing and nipping, always through the lace. He ran the fingers of his free hand along her neck, down her breastbone, the touch gentle, searing. Then his fingers slipped under the lace of her bra, sliding it down, freeing first one breast then the other.
Then God, yes, his mouth was there, his tongue swirling around her nipple, sucking. His teeth closed over the tight peak, nipping gently, licking again, sucking.
Her back arched, her heels digging into the mattress, but she still couldn't move. Pressure was building, knotting her stomach, coiling tight between her legs.
"Justin."
He ignored her cry, filled with breathless need, his mouth moving from one breast to the other. She reached down with her free hand, tangled it in his hair, holding him in place as he sucked, licked, teased.
Too much, not enough. Val threw her head back, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling with each harsh breath, with each gasp. Justin's hand tightened around hers for a brief second then released it. He trailed his fingers along her arm, cupped her breast and squeezed, his thumb grazing the hard peak of her nipple. Then he moved, sliding down her body, his mouth and tongue trailing fire, dipping into her navel, down even more, teasing the swell of hip.
Justin shifted, his strong legs no longer holding her own together. He grabbed her
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