Jessica’s [POV]
Parker lifts me in his arms, carrying me out of the kitchen and up the staircase. I don’t break off the kiss, relishing the warmth and comfort of his lips. It’s not until I feel a mattress beneath me and Parker releasing himself from my arms that I open my eyes. It’s dark at first, but then he turns on a lamp on the bedside table. In the dim light, Parker leans over me, propping an elbow on each side of me. He pushes a strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. His crystal-clear gaze bores into mine, and it’s so different from all the other times he’s looked at me. As if this is the first time he truly sees me. In many ways, it is. I used to be terrified by this. What would follow if I ever let anyone see what’s under the armor of self-confidence I’ve built around myself? If I revealed that old touch of vulnerability I hid so deep inside me, I fooled myself that it wasn’t there anymore. But now that I’ve done it, I feel relieved.
“I want to kiss every single part of you,” Parker whispers in my ear.
He pushes his knee between my legs, spreading me open beneath him. In a matter of seconds, he removes all my clothing and I do the same with his. Then he starts kissing the soft spot at the base of my neck sending me over the edge. His trail of kisses descends to my breasts, leaving a blazing mark in their wake and making me greedy for even more. Parker slips one hardened nipple between his lips and I arch my back, pushing my lower body against him, hungry for more skin-on-skin contact. When he finally turns his attention away from my nipples, they are hard as pebbles and, like the rest of my body, aching for his touch. My inner walls clench for him already, but I know he’s far from done. He confirms it when, instead of doing anything to still my growing need for him, he pulls back. Way back to my ankles. When his lips come in contact with my skin there, I grit out his name. I’m caught in a dilemma. Part of me wants him to cease the teasing and fuck me hard right this very moment. But another part-one that I was frankly unaware of until tonight, the part that prompted me to open up to him-craves for more of this. Because there’s something sweet and innocent about it. And I need it. His tongue swirls up and then touches a spot behind my knee. I fist the bed sheets as his tongue lingers there, while he runs the tip of his fingers across my inner thighs, drawing quiver after quiver out of me.
The inside of my knees, huh? Never too late to discover more erogenous areas, I guess. And by God, I want him to discover them all. As his kisses trail up my inner thigh, I push up; I want his lips to meet my wet slit. But they change direction at the last second, going even higher, and then stopping.
At the tattoo on my hip.
Ice cold seeps through my veins. I try to pull him up to me because I don’t want to think about that now. But Parker doesn’t budge. As he blows hot breaths over that spot, I start to relax. Very slowly. Concentrating on the way his lips touch me there, brushing against each wing of the butterfly, and then lingering on its spine.
I want to kiss you everywhere, Parker said. I realize now he hadn’t meant it as foreplay. There’s only one way to be truly free. By healing. And that’s what Parker’s kisses are meant for. They tug at my heartstrings, making me let go of those last bits of old rage that keep me from being completely free. I’m starting to think his kisses could heal anything.
When I pull him up to me, moments later, Parker lifts my legs, placing them on his shoulder. He bites his lip as he peruses his fingers over my slit, causing a hurricane of pleasure to spread through me.
I push myself against his fingers, but now Parker is the one who can’t wait anymore. Instead of meeting his fingers, I find his cock ready for me, a condom already on.
“Fuck,” I cry as he slams against me. A loud growl rumbles from his chest as he slams again, pushing himself even deeper inside. With my legs up like this, I take more of him in. He stretches me and fills me as if he’s determined not to leave an inch of me unclaimed. I willingly give him all of me.
“Touch yourself,” he says in a raspy voice, bringing one of my hands down to my clit. I arch my back, and as I do, his tip slides so deep inside me, that it causes many shimmers of delight to erupt inside me. I increase the speed of stroking my clit. With the other hand, I fist the sheet, needing to hold onto something as I push myself harder and harder against him.
“This is so fucking sexy,” he growls, but I’m too far gone to acknowledge it with anything more than a whimper. When I cry his name, I don’t give him just my pleasure. I give him everything.