I gripped the bottom hem of his T-shirt and pulled upward. Taylor reached behind his neck and pulled it the rest of the way. I ran my fingers down his back, and he groaned. It had been years since I touched a man like this, and now that I was, my hands wanted to explore more of him. I reached down to the button of his jeans and unfastened it, the hardness behind his zipper begging to escape.

His mouth left mine and trailed down my neck. His hands lifted my shirt to access the bare skin of my chest and stomach until he was at my waistline. He slipped one hand beneath me, his fingers finding their way to my bra. With his fingers, he unsnapped the clasp, and with the other hand, he released the button of my jeans.

His confident, experienced movements only made me more excited for what would come next. Even though he was exploring my body for the first time, he knew exactly what to do and how to touch me. I had only had one lover, and this was so much better. Not only was the man above me in love with me—not just the idea of me—but by the look in his eyes, I knew he was about to make love to me, which would be something new to him, too.

Taylor pinched my zipper and pulled it toward him, sliding his tongue beneath the fabric. I sighed, feeling my insides tightening, pleading for him. He kissed just behind the metal button as he lowered the zipper, and then he pulled my jeans over my hips. His lips baptized my skin in a line of tiny kisses until he reached my ankles, and then he threw the denim to the floor.

Taylor took his time as he made his way back up, licking my inner thigh with the tip of his tongue. He enjoyed every stretch of my hips every time I writhed beneath him.

The pace at which he undressed me was wonderfully agonizing. He pulled my shirt over my head, and then he slid my bra straps over my shoulders before tossing the white silky fabric to the floor.

The mattress squeaked beneath us as he pushed up and away from me. He stood at the end of the bed, planning what he was going to do to me next, as he pushed his jeans to the floor and stepped out of them. He crawled back onto the bed, hovering above me.

Taylor touched his forehead to mine and sighed.

“What?” I whispered, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

He lowered himself against me, the only fabric stopping him from entering me was his Calvin Klein briefs and my embarrassingly unsexy cotton panties.

“You were crying fifteen minutes ago. I feel like I’m taking advantage. I’m okay if we just stay like this.”