Chapter 2

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Chapter Two

Back with my feet on the ground, I wrap my arms around his neck, desperate to have him closer than he is. The long stubble along his jaw is scratching me to no end and normally I hated the feeling of stubble or a beard, but somehow a Mitch's is making me wonder how it would feel scratching along my stomach.

His hands slip to my ass before the hand continues to lower, grabbing the hem of my dress. I press our foreheads together as he grabs the waistband of the thong and slowly, far too slowly, starts tugging it down.

The moment he gets it to mid-thigh, he lets go and they fall around my ankles. His eyes are sparkling and a lust filled smile takes over his face, his hands now running up the back of my thighs, over my ass before taking the hem of my dress again and tugging it up. Smiling myself, I lean back slightly, raising my arms for him to be able to take it off. He gets stuck when the tight material gets caught on my boobs.

His eyes drop from mine at the restriction, his hands keeping up that slow pace as he trails them around to the front and gently lifts the material over my slightly larger than average boobs. Once past them, he grabs the side of the dress and takes it the rest of the way off, tossing it away from us before he is moving to my bra. I'm too surprised to do much but watch him undress me. Normally if I am the first to get naked, it's because the guy is in that much of a rush to get in me, while if he starts with his clothes, it's clear he wants me to go down on him. Mitch is already like no one else I've slept with.

He isn't rushing it and he certainly isn't inspecting every aspect of skin he uncovers in a desperate way. In fact, as far as I can tell, the only reason he let his gaze waver from mine was to get the dress over my boobs.

The moment my boobs bounce free, he tugs my body back to his, grabbing the back of my thighs and lifting me again before I am being placed on the bed with him between my legs.

The moment I feel his zipper graze my bare core, I gasp, arching my back and let my own desperation take over, grabbing his top and tugging on it, encouraging him to sit up and tug it off himself. I stare in the moonlit room at the hard ridges of his stomach, a clear sign he works out. Surprised to see a tattoo over his right shoulder, I find myself wanting to see it properly, yet put it on my to do list for later. After.

While he works his top off, I start on his jeans, undoing the button and tugging that teasing zipper of his down, grabbing he waistband before tugging them down, realising he is so hard that I can't actually get the jeans past him. He has his top off by now and is watching me as I slip my hand under his jeans and boxers, wrapping my hand around the velvety covered steel, biting my lip when I take in his width, tugging him free. Yanking the material down again, I leave them at mid-thigh before I grab him again, not really making out the full extent of his size.

Running my hand from base to tip, I smile at how large he actually is. Any bigger and he would be too big, but at the moment he is perfect.

He groans as I stroke him, gripping my thighs as he moves his hips slightly with me.

"Fuck," he finally mutters before he tugs my hand off and starts shuffling. He climbs off the bed and I hear his jeans hit the floor before he is crawling back up to me. I scrunch my eyebrows when I see him shuffling around the end of the bed, thinking we'd get straight to it, but he breaths over my core a second later, making me gasp.

"Mitch," I moan, feeling his lips place a line of butterfly kisses across my thigh before moving to do the same to the other thigh. Finally moving up, he gently blows over me, driving me insane, before he finally places his tongue on me. He does it slowly, moving it as if he is searching every inch of me.

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