Ripped by Lisa Edward Page B

sighed between kisses. We were down on the mattress with Bax’s leg over mine in seconds. “We can stop at any time, okay? No pressure,” he panted, his hand gripping my hip and guiding it up to meet his.
    “I don’t want to stop.” I just managed to gasp as his hand slid down the front of my sweats.
    “So wet,” he murmured against my lips.
    Pushing up against his hand as his fingers found their way between my folds, I dropped my head back, his lips scorching my neck as they continued lower toward my chest. I’d fantasized about this for eight years, since Bax had left Boston and now that it was finally happening, I wanted to relish every moment. A firm hand slid inside the delicate lace of my bra, kneading my breast, making my nipple pebble under its touch. His hot mouth followed the path of his hand, and I moaned as his tongue languidly circled before his lips drew my nipple in.
    The hand inside my sweats that had been slowly stroking my center increased in pressure, his fingers now delving inside me. I moaned again, louder this time as both hand and mouth worked on different parts of my needy body.
    Fumbling in the half-light from the hallway, I ran my hand down Bax’s abdomen until I felt the top of his jeans. The button was already undone but I managed to unzip him and push the denim down far enough to feel the bulge inside. Tentatively I stroked his length, unsure how firm my pressure should be. Bax’s hand left my sweats and came to rest on mine. With considered guidance, he tucked our hands inside his boxers and wrapped my palm around his shaft, controlling my movements. He was so hot, the velvety head so smooth. Memories of what he liked came back and my confidence grew.
    “That’s it, Jaz.” He kissed my neck. “Just like that.”
    My hand slid up and down easily, his need lubricating my strokes. He pushed his jeans and boxers farther down his legs and kicked them off, then sat up and removed my sweats.
    “That’s better,” he said on a sigh, his fingers dancing over my skin as they made their way back to between my thighs. Without the restriction of clothing, Bax widened my legs, hooking one over his, spreading me open. “You’re beautiful, Jaz,” he whispered, his hand never stilling. “I want to taste you. I’ve missed my sweet Jasmine.”
    Before my addled mind could process what had just been said, Bax was above me, kissing and licking his way down my stomach. My body trembled in anticipation as he hooked his arms around my hips and pulled me toward his face. Hot breath blew against my wetness and I groaned, wriggling a little closer, trying to make contact.
    His breath puffed against me once more. “You seem to want this almost as much as I do,” he said, hoarsely.
    “I want it more.” I sighed.
    I fisted his hair, and he let me guide his head down. One slow lick had me writhing, my back arching up from the mattress. It would have been embarrassing how quickly Bax had me teetering on the edge if not for the noises of pure pleasure he also made. For every throaty moan I made, he matched it with a hum of enjoyment as his face nuzzled closer, his licking and sucking increasing.
    “Oh, God, Bax,” I groaned, pushing my hips up as my leg muscles spasmed. His fingers rubbed harder over my inner walls and a wave of pure ecstasy washed over me, pulsing through my entire body time and time again. I rode out the orgasm until Bax’s pressure lessened to gentle licks, his flat tongue savoring my taste.
    My eyes were closed, my breath coming out in short bursts as Bax climbed above me. “I’ve missed the flavor of you. I used to dream about it, and now here you are. See? Dreams do come true.”
    His hand came up to brush tendrils of hair from my damp brow. He kissed where the hair had been, his lips scorching my skin as it cooled. I slid my hand down between our bodies and took hold of his length that was pressed against my abdomen. He moaned at the slightest touch, so turned on by what