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his narrow waist. Then the tie and shirt, and I could finally see the pecs I’d been visualizing all day, thick slabs of muscle with dime-sized dark pink nipples. His abs were hard and defined, with ridges I longed to run my hands over and a deep center line bisecting them. He’d said he wanted to lick my breasts. I wanted to lick my way down that line, all the way from his chest to his navel, while my hands slid down his body.
    He unfastened his belt. Pulled his pants and shorts down in one move and—
    I drew in my breath. His cock was standing hard and ready and it was big. T he head was purple-pink, glossily smooth. The shaft was the same even, sun-kissed tan as the rest of him, thick and long and throbbing with need. Throbbing for me. The thought of that made me swallow hard.
    He climbed onto the bed, the size of him making it creak. His hands gripped my ankles and he laid kisses up the length of one calf. Then he eased them apart and pushed my feet up the bed. I let my knees rise and my legs open, feeling my slickened lips spread. I looked down at that cock again. It was bigger by a good few inches than those of the two men I’d had before—thicker, too. I imagined it sliding into me, stretching me, and heat inside me raged even harder.
    He lowered himself atop me, planting his hands either side of my head, his knees nudging mine farther apart. His cock brushed my thigh and I gasped at its heat. He moved lower, and I marveled at how the muscles in his arms bunched and flexed. His mouth found my neck, laying a trail of kisses that led down to my breasts.
    “I’ve been waiting to do this since I first saw you,” he told me. And before I could respond, he had his hot, sucking mouth on the flesh of my breast, his tongue hard and insistent, kneading me with his mouth. My hands clutched for the bedsheets. His mouth began to move around the edge of my left breast, refusing to go any closer towards the nipple. Ripples of pleasure went straight to my core, making me gasp and writhe beneath him. Supporting himself on the bed with one huge hand, he started to use the other to stroke my other breast, trailing his fingers back and forth over it. Both nipples were hard as rock in just seconds and I had to turn my head to the side, closing my eyes as I panted.
    His mouth spiraled in, but still refused to touch the nipple itself. I started to arch my back towards him, thrusting my breasts towards his face, but he just smiled. My breasts were exquisitely sensitive, throbbing under his touch, all but that one spot on fire. “Please,” I gasped at last.
    “Please what?” he asked.
    I wasn’t at my most lucid, by now, and it took me a few seconds to remember the French for “kiss,” baiser, and “nipple,” mamelon . “Please,” I begged, “kiss my nipple.”
    He grinned and did exactly that, and I let out a deep, throaty groan. Then he started to suck on it, his tongue working the areola, and the heat was throbbing through me hard and fast, unstoppable. When he eventually lifted his mouth, I lay there limp, staring up at him.
    He lifted himself again, moving his head right up to mine, and kissed me long and deep. Then he started to make his way down my body, starting at my ear, laying a line of kisses that twisted back and forth across my body, criss-crossing my breasts, across my stomach, around my thighs, down my legs, right down to my feet. There was not a single inch he didn’t kiss and with every brush of his lips the heat inside me surged harder.
    “Gorgeous,” he said as he worked his way down. “Enchanting and perfect. Don’t ever change.”
    Every part of me was dancing, my skin alive. Heat was washing up and down my body—I wanted to grind myself against him, wanted to hook him with my heels and draw him into me. I was panting, aching. God, I was going to go crazy if he didn’t—
    “I’m going to fuck you now,” he told me. And he moved into position to do just that, his strong thighs between mine.
    I