Candy Store

men lead in bed, content to let her lovers take their time exploring her. But if she didn’t get more of Derek this very second—his mouth, his hands, the huge, hard shaft that was pressing against her palm as she cupped his heavy weight through his black tuxedo pants—she was going to die.
    She plunged her tongue into his mouth and found his, forcing it to mate with hers. He growled his pleasure and she matched it with her own moan.
    Lifting his mouth from hers, Derek reached for the jersey fabric of her dress. “I need to see you,” he said in a low voice.
    Callie pulled her dress up over her head then reached for Derek’s jacket, roughly yanking it off of his shoulders.
    “I need to taste you,” she said as she ripped off his bow tie and jerked his shirt open at the neck, and then her lips and tongue found the hollow of his neck, found his strong, quick pulse.
    He slid his hands to her back, stroking flames onto her skin, and then her bra was on the floor, and his sure fingers overtook hers, clumsy with cold and need as she tried to remove his shirt.
    Knocking off several cartons of milk from a low shelf beside them, he propped her up on it. Callie reached for his belt, but he had already dropped to his knees, his mouth at her breasts, licking and sucking at the sides of the soft, plump flesh.
    “Please,” Callie moaned, her hands wound into Derek’s thick, dark hair, her head thrown back, her back arched. She pushed herself into him, any remaining vestiges of modesty gone, impatient for him to put her out of this exquisite agony.
    “Not yet,” he said, taking her ample breasts into his hands. Reverently, he ran his thumbs lightly over the tight buds, then back again.
    “Dusty rose. I knew it,” he said softly as he worshiped her. His mouth consumed her as he tasted every square inch of her glorious breasts, rising up from her rib cage to the taut peaks that were so sensitive. “You’re so beautiful. So damn beautiful.”
    Callie had always been more than a little embarrassed by the size of her breasts—D cups on a five foot frame had always seemed way out of proportion—but if Derek continued to lick and suck her like that, she vowed to never have another bad thought about them again.
    “Oh god, yes,” she whimpered, her sounds of pleasure muffled by the thick walls of the refrigerator.
    She was so hot, burning up everywhere he touched her. And then his hands were lifting her up and pulling her panties off, the wispy silk scratching the sensitive skin on her inner thighs. Her panties fell to her ankles and she kicked them off.
    And then, suddenly, shockingly, Derek’s head was between her legs, his tongue on her.
    Gasping with surprise – and pleasure so dark and deep it threatened to pull her under – she instinctively opened her legs up wider and bucked her hips up into his mouth.
    He held her firmly away from his mouth, lapping at her once, then twice, then blowing lightly on her heated flesh.
    “More,” she cried, no longer worried about anyone walking in on them, no longer caring if anyone in the kitchen heard her scream out for him.
    A smile on his lips, he reached for her and brought her lips to his, letting her taste her juices, letting her lick them from his tongue.
    “You taste so sweet,” he said, just as she begged, “Please, Derek.”
    His hand on her thigh, only inches from her lips, he said, “I like hearing my name on your lips. Say it again.”
    “Dere-”
    He was kissing her before she got to the k. “Now tell me what you want me to do to you.”
    She didn’t even have to think. “Lick me again.”
    He moved down and licked her kneecap.
    “Here?” he asked, his eyes devious and challenging.
    “No,” she cried, wishing he would give her what she wanted, wishing he wouldn't make her say the words.
    He licked the tender flesh on the inside of her elbow.
    “Here, sweetheart?”
    She gave in, need pushing her all the way off the ledge of fear. Of whatever propriety she had left.
    “Between my thighs,” she whispered.
    He kissed her hard on her lips, bruising them, before kissing a trail down her flesh, from the hollow of her neck to the valley between her lush breasts.
    “I,” he pulled at her breasts with his mouth, causing shivers of ecstasy to race down her spine, “would be happy,” his tongue dipped into her belly button, “to lick,” and then lower still, “between your thighs.”
    And then his mouth was on her, hot and insistent, and Callie cried