“Some girls like it, some girls don’t,” he said. “How does it feel?”

“Hot.”

He chuckled. “Good hot, or bad hot?”

I considered the question, not really sure. It was a little of both, like touching my tongue to an acidic battery or a copper penny. It shocked me, and felt uncomfortable, but at the same time, I liked it.

At least, I thought.

When I didn’t answer, Clay settled lower between my legs, his chest pressed against my aching core now as he balanced on his elbows.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

I did, releasing a long breath.

And then, his mouth was on me.

I gasped, the sensation rocking through me violently as his tongue swirled over my nipple.

“Clay,” I breathed, and without meaning to, my hands shot for his hair, and I held on like those strands were reins.

“Good or bad?” he asked again.

“Good,” I breathed out, wetting my lips. “Very good.”

He smiled against my breast, and then his tongue was dancing, circling and flicking as little shots of electricity bolted down between my legs. Then, he sucked my nipple between his teeth, nipping so gently I barely registered it before he released me.

“Is that okay?”

“God, yes,” I breathed, hands fisting in his hair, and he kissed a line of sweet, tender kisses across the middle of my chest until he took my other nipple between his teeth, spreading the love.

It felt like hours of that torture, his lips moving from one to the other, tongue never tiring, and when he finally crawled back up to take my mouth with those beautiful lips again, I held him to me, arching into him, wanting to praise him like a saint.

“That was amazing,” I breathed. “Now what the hell do I do to you?”

Clay barked out a laugh, but it faded quickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he rolled over onto his back. He kept his eyes on me, but I couldn’t help but watch his hands where they lowered, thumbs sliding under the band of his sweatpants. He pushed into his heels, lifted his hips, and tugged them down below his knees before kicking them the rest of the way off.

My eyes grew wide, and Clay paused with his thumbs in the band of his briefs next.

“You okay?”

“Take your briefs off, Clay,” I said, practically panting as I waited for him to free the beast straining against the black fabric.

A light chuckle left him, and then he did as I asked, and when his erection sprang free, I actually salivated.

I’d never seen one in real life, never known anything other than what I’d glimpsed on raunchy television shows or the occasional porn I indulged in. But I’d read about them. I’d felt my body heating as the authors described the swollen tip, the veiny shaft, the thick base with tufts of hair.