His timing for kisses was impeccable, she noted somewhere in the back of her mind — invariably he stopped her asking something pushy. Summer cupped her hands at his hips, pulling them together firmly, and melted into the kisses. “Just tell me what you want,” she whispered roughly into his mouth.
“You,” he stated helplessly and continued to massage and squeeze her breasts, learning how they felt in the palms of his hands, how to ensure that she made such delicious noises as he touched her. Mewling and tangling their tongues together, he pressed up against her and shivered in anticipation.
“That’s not fair,” she whimpered, hardly aware she was saying it and not just thinking it. She arched her head back, strands of hair sliding to the floor or catching on the fabric of his jeans.
She nodded slowly, vision going distant. “Not — this way,” she said, the words dragging from her mouth. “I was — he … it ended badly.” She bit at her lip, eyelids twitching, and visibly put it out of her mind, gaze focusing back on him. “What are you learning?”
“How you feel. I’ve never…” Here, he blushed crimson and ducked his head, although his fingers continued to lazily roam her flesh. “I’ve never seen, nevermind touched before, so I…” He shrugged helplessly and lunged up for a kiss.
His timing for kisses was impeccable, she noted somewhere in the back of her mind — invariably he stopped her asking something pushy. Summer cupped her hands at his hips, pulling them together firmly, and melted into the kisses. “Just tell me what you want,” she whispered roughly into his mouth.
“Don’t be passive,” Summer murmured, breathing shallowly. She watched him watch her, holding as still as possible. “If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.” A shudder raced down her spine, matching his motion, and she shifted her hips, pressing down.
“I’m not, I’m…I’m learning. Have you ever done this before?” he whispered and cupped both of her breasts, thumbs swiping across her nipples as he eyed them hungrily. “Beautiful,” he whispered, before hardening underneath her, the friction causing him to let out a low moan.
She nodded slowly, vision going distant. “Not — this way,” she said, the words dragging from her mouth. “I was — he … it ended badly.” She bit at her lip, eyelids twitching, and visibly put it out of her mind, gaze focusing back on him. “What are you learning?”
Slightly breathless, she teased, “No, I was going to just make you stare, like a museum.” Taking one of his hands, she pulled it up across her skin slowly.
Too captivated by the sight before him to form a retort, Isaac licked at his lips and allowed her to navigate his hand, before slowly cupping at her breast. Letting out a low groan upon contact, he trembled and pushed up against her.
“Don’t be passive,” Summer murmured, breathing shallowly. She watched him watch her, holding as still as possible. “If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.” A shudder raced down her spine, matching his motion, and she shifted her hips, pressing down.
Any possible reply was short-circuited by more kissing, rendering her brain incapable of formulating a response. Fine hair on her skin rose in the wake of his fingers, and Summer squeaked, softly, low in her throat. A few freckles and faint scars slipped under his rising fingertips.
“Can…can I…?” He faltered shyly, cheeks colouring scarlet as his hands stilled their movements, eyes darting up to hers as he sought out both permission and approval. He longed to explore her body like she had with his moments before.
Slightly breathless, she teased, “No, I was going to just make you stare, like a museum.” Taking one of his hands, she pulled it up across her skin slowly.
She twitched in an involuntary reaction, half-tickle and half-heat flash. One hand smeared as much hair as possible back while she said, equally involuntarily, “No I’m not.” After that she didn’t know what to do with her hands, tucking them under her hair for lack of anything better.
“You are to me,” he stated firmly as if that was the end of that particular argument and he lunged up to kiss her on the lips. As he nibbled on her bottom lip, one hand curled around her hip, the other sliding slowly up her stomach as his fingertips brushed at the bottom of her breasts.
Any possible reply was short-circuited by more kissing, rendering her brain incapable of formulating a response. Fine hair on her skin rose in the wake of his fingers, and Summer squeaked, softly, low in her throat. A few freckles and faint scars slipped under his rising fingertips.
She shifted, slowly, easing herself out of the shirt. Hair poured down through the neckline, webbing over her face, and she laughed, eyes crinkling. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath it, and stretched her arms upward with a faint crackle of realigning bones. She bit her tongue on the question, ‘like what you see?’
His jaw dropped and his eyes widened comically, glazing over with lust and admiration as they shamelessly roamed her bare torso. Breath hitching as he flicked out his tongue to wet his lips, he reached out unconsciously, fingertips ghosting down her sides, too afraid just yet to venture any higher. “You’re so beautiful…”
She twitched in an involuntary reaction, half-tickle and half-heat flash. One hand smeared as much hair as possible back while she said, equally involuntarily, “No I’m not.” After that she didn’t know what to do with her hands, tucking them under her hair for lack of anything better.
Actress Molly C. Quinn is photographed for Self Assignment on May 1, 2014 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by Maarten de Boer/Contour by Getty Images)
