53. Lily

53

Lily

I had time to draw in one shuddering gasp before he lowered his head and touched his lips to mine. Not his normal kiss, all hungry and urgent. This was slower and more gentle—gentler than I’d thought him capable of.

When his kisses moved away from my mouth and down my neck, it was as if he was following the lines of me so that he could draw them indelibly in his mind.

All my lines. He started to unbutton my blouse and I caught my breath, my hands automatically rising to catch his. But he leaned closer and made a shh- ing sound in my ear and I slowly lowered them. He was right—it was crazy that I was self-conscious when we’d already had sex. But what I’d said to him was true, too—the sex had been hot enough that it had burned straight through all my insecurities. This was different—more intimate, in a way. It’s surprising how close you have to feel to someone, to be happy for them to see all your imperfections .

As he folded the fabric of my blouse back away from my chest, opening up a deeper and deeper sliver of skin down my front, he trailed the edge of it with his mouth. Every shocking gust of warm, outdoor air against my breasts was followed by a reassuring touch of his lips. It kept me just on the edge, hovering between allowing this and stopping it.

He kept going. By the time my blouse was down to its lowest button, he had it pushed back to reveal my shoulders, still creamy-white despite the summer sun. I always stayed covered up, outside. Until now.

The tension inside me made me stand as stiff as a mannequin. He pushed the blouse down my arms and it fell to the ground behind me. My whole upper half was exposed to the sun and the wind and a million billion pairs of imagined eyes.

He kissed me just above the navel—did he know that that was the part of me I disliked most?

“I love you here,” he said. He’d been so quiet that the shock of his voice almost made me jump. “I love how smooth your skin is. Soft and warm and sexy.”

My insides did a somersault. No one had ever described my stomach like that before.

He unfastened my jeans and then knelt to push them down my legs, kissing his way down the length of one and then up the other. It sent warm waves up through my thighs and they became a slowly-twisting heat in my groin...it was sexual, but not in the same way normal sex is, if that makes any sense. It felt more giving. It felt as if we were connecting soul to soul instead of body to body.

It felt like being worshipped.

He nudged me backward until I stepped out of my jeans, sneakers and socks. The grass was crisp under my feet, the blades warm from the sun but the earth beneath still cool.

He stood, using just his fingertips to trace up my legs and over my hips. “I love you here,” he said. I cringed inside, thinking of the width of my hips. “They’re perfect,” he said. “Full and curvy and they make the perfect frame for this.” And he moved one hand inward, cupping my pussy through my panties. I gasped and stepped my feet a little farther apart, the heat changing and spreading. His hand pushed upward just a little, so that I opened under the cloth. “But I can’t figure out if that’s my favorite part of you,” he said.

He stripped my panties down my hips and let them fall around my ankles, then drew them off and tossed them aside. He came around behind me and I began to pant. I’d never felt so studied before. I’d always pushed thoughts of my own body down into the depths of my mind, and the sex with Bull had helped because it had always been so urgent—there hadn’t been any time for doubts. Now, all I could think about was how huge I must look, how unlike the slender, tanned girls he knew. What if he realizes his mistake?!

He kissed my shoulder and I felt my fears calming. Then both big hands slid down my back and cupped my ass. “I especially love you here,” he told me. “I think this is my favorite part of you. I love to watch it when you’re riding a horse—or when you’re riding me. It’s so ripe and juicy and it feels just right in my hands.” He gave a squeeze to demonstrate and I gasped.

Then I felt my bra loosen. A second later, he stripped it from my body, tossing it away. But he didn’t come around in front of me—he stayed behind, close enough that I could feel the warm press of his chest against my back, and he looked down at my front over my shoulder.

“Your breasts—they were the first thing I noticed about you. Yeah, I know, I’m supposed to say your face. But it wasn’t. It was these.” He scooped them up in his hands and, immediately, I felt waves of heat radiating out from where his palms touched me. “Gorgeous and big and just the right weight. Pert, but they hang just enough. Goddamn perfect.” He squeezed gently, then harder and I gasped. “All of you is goddamn perfect. Every damn inch.”

I felt his cock, rising between my thighs and bumping against my ass cheeks. “I told you I’d show you what your body did to me,” he said. “Can you feel it?”

I nodded dumbly. I felt it growing rock hard, throbbing hotly as it rose to stand vertical, nestled between my cheeks. He moved closer and I could feel the soft kiss of his balls, heavy and... full. “Can you feel how much I need you?” he growled.

I nodded again.

His muscled arm wrapped around my waist and his hand slid down between my legs. I gasped. My knees softened as his fingers stroked down my lips. Then he thrust them inside me.

I could feel him moving on my own slick heat. I’d been listening so hard to his words, focusing so much on the differences between how he saw me and how I saw myself, that my own arousal had crept up on me. The heat had built slowly, throbbing outward from every place he touched, and it had silently filled me up. Now I was aching and trembling, needing him as much as he needed me. Suddenly, every breath of wind against me made me gasp.

He pulled me back hard against him so that he touched me from shoulder to ankle, the warm press of his body the perfect counterpoint to the cool breeze against my front. The fingers inside me began to move and even that was different to normal sex. Instead of pumping me, driving me towards orgasm, they were gently sliding deeper, making me appreciate every millimeter of my sensitive flesh. I was rediscovering myself.

It might not have been what I was used to, but the slowly-moving fingers, coupled with that deep, gravelly voice telling me how much he wanted me, made the heat swirl and build inside me. I was heading for a climax, but not like any I’d known before. This was a slow-burning fire instead of an explosion, but all the hotter for it.

When he wrapped his other arm around me and cupped my breast, gently pinching my nipple, I moaned. The heat was spiraling and twisting inside me, drawing me inexorably towards ecstasy. I’d started to unconsciously grind my hips, swirling myself around those questing fingers, really feeling—maybe for the first time—how my body moved, instead of glossing over it in my mind. My breast in his hand felt heavy. My ass, pressed against him, felt rounded and ripe...but suddenly, neither of those things felt bad.

The heat inside me rose higher, becoming molten silver and then white-hot lava. I’d had my eyes tightly closed for what felt like hours now, imagining laughing, jeering people staring at me. Suddenly, I opened them and it wasn’t just that the hills around us were empty and peaceful—it was that I wasn’t scared anymore. I was proud of my body.

Bull rubbed his thumb across my clit. It took me a notch higher, my whole body growing tense, but it wasn’t quite enough to take me to orgasm—

“I’m going to fuck you right here on the grass,” he growled in my ear. “Harder than you’ve ever been fucked before.”

I cried out and came, the orgasm doubly intense because of how gradually it had been built. I rammed my ass back against him, folding at the waist, and trembled and shook as my body spasmed around his fingers.

When I finally straightened, I felt different. I was red-faced and a little embarrassed, but only on the surface. That deep-seated worry and guilt I’d been carrying around, without even realizing it, was gone.

I turned and looked at Bull in wonder. Then I swallowed and glanced at the grass beside us, remembering what he’d said.

“First,” he said, “let’s take a dip.”