Trust Me by D. T. Jones

fell into a pool of sensation; she had never felt anything as incredible as his touch on her bare skin and then a cool breeze blew across her; he had found the front opening of her bra and unfastened it, pushing the thin material aside.
    “Never wear any other type of bra,” he told her with an appreciative grin, his lips grazing the delicate skin, tracing her areola with the tip of his tongue, nipping and sucking her erect nipple. The sensation was extraordinary, the heat and passion burned into her flesh, his tongue branding her with searing kisses. She heard the deep rumble of his moan, feeling the vibration against her tender flesh as her back arched, her breast pressing deeper into his mouth. His tongue lavishly bathed her and she was transported to another planet; no reasonable thought, no audible communication was possible as he began to suck her nipple harder, her back arching further against his hot mouth.
    Creighton took full advantage of her eagerness, gently sliding one erect nipple between his teeth, biting gently and easing it deeper into his hot mouth. He teased and caressed the sensitive skin with his tongue, over and over, repeating the delicious torture to the other breast until she was certain her soul would explode.
    “More,” she moaned hearing his deep, reluctant groan.
    “No more,” he whispered and pushed away from her slightly. “You need sleep and I want better for you, but I promise I won’t make you wait long.” She looked at him and frowned. How could he possibly say no? Wasn’t he feeling the same heat she was? But before she could utter a single work, he pressed his hard erection against her thigh again and she felt his response burn into her.
    “But, I want you now. I don’t want to wait any longer.” She couldn’t believe the words had just come from her mouth, but then she couldn’t believe he was rejecting her, either. She watched him as he rose to his knees beside her, staring down into her passion filled eyes. He sat there for a long moment, taking in the sight of her exposed breasts, before he reached down and unfastened the snap of her jeans.
    “Just like Christmas,” he whispered. His eyes returned to hers and she smiled brightly.
    “My present to you,” she whispered with a warm blush as his fingers slowly caressed the exposed skin above the closed zipper.
    “I will never be satisfied with another gift after this,” he told her and with painstaking slowness, he slid the zipper down, pulling the flaps apart carefully and slipping his long fingers gently between her jeans and panties. He caressed and kneaded the soft material that covered her desire until she moaned, smiling wickedly as he gathered the material between his fingers, tugging her panties so the elastic slipped into the moisture between her labia. She moaned again and he released the tension on her panties, only to pull it again a little more eagerly. He did this again, then once more and stopped.
    Her eyes opened wide following him as he moved from the bed to stand at the foot, untying the laces to her shoes. He slipped them off one at a time, followed by her socks. He let all four fall carelessly to the floor then flexed her knees up, bending them and pushing them apart gently; her feet braced on the mattress. His fingers traced the inseam of her pants from ankle to crotch, resting his hand firmly against the zipper, pressing the metal teeth into her sensitive flesh.
    His touch was maddening and she closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his firm fingers as he ran them back down the inside of her legs and slowly up again. He paused momentarily, his fingers playing with the waistband of her pants before he gently began pulling them down. Sandra’s eyes opened to see him smiling at her while he tugged the material over her hips and down her legs to lie on the floor with her shoes and socks.
    Creighton didn’t move for several long moments, his eyes traveled down her exposed breasts, to her damp