The Position 3 by Izzy Mason Read Free Book Online Page B

gives me a wistful smile.  
    He puts his hands on my cheeks and gazes down into my eyes, like he’s searching for something. Then he leans in and presses his soft lips to mine. It’s tender. Unbelievably tender. I never knew Jude Lazarus could be tender to anyone. Then the kiss deepens. It sends tendrils of heat through my body. My breathing speeds up. I push my fingers through his hair, and it’s thick and soft and stiff with product in places.  
    Before I know it, I’m off my feet, cradled in Lazarus’s arms. He opens the door and carries me inside, then kicks it closed with his foot.  
    “The bedroom,” he breathes into the dark silence. “Where’s the bedroom?”  
    “Straight and to the right,” I mutter impatiently.  
    My skin tingles all over anticipating his touch. The core of me already throbs with pressure. I don’t care who I am to him. His trinket. His twinkie. His whore. Fuck it. I realize that now. I’ll do anything and be anything just to have him touch me.  
    Lazarus stumbles through the dark, nearly tripping over a pair of shoes in the middle of the room. But he’s a man on a mission and he manages to find the half open door to my bedroom, which he pushes with his back. Street light pours through the slats of the blinds, illuminating the unmade bed, blankets and sheets kicked to the edges.  
    He practically throws me onto the mattress, then immediately crawls on top of me. The weight of his firm body on mine makes me pant with desire. We fit together like a glove. It feels right. It feels natural. Almost as if together our bodies complete each other.  
    He hovers over me, propped up on his arms, gazing down at me again. His amber eyes are gray in the dim light. He lets out a sigh. “If you only knew…”  
    I wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. “If I only knew what?”  
    He shakes his head. “How much I’ve thought about you.”  
    My heart wants to burst open, but I’m afraid to let it. Don’t get sucked in. It’s too messy. You’ll get hurt. Fuck that. You’ll get clobbered. I don’t respond. Instead I reach down and slide my fingers over the beautiful bulge in his pants and gently squeeze. It catches him by surprise. He gasps.
    I smile. I’ve never felt one before. Ever. It’s firm and long, straining against the buttons of his trousers. My hand presses into it, strokes it over the fabric, follows its contours. Lazarus’s breath accelerates. I want to see it. To feel it. To taste it. As I fumble with the buttons, he watches me, frozen. I manage to open his fly and can make out the black band of his boxer-briefs. God, he’s sexy. I slide my hand over the cotton fabric, traveling between his legs, feeling for his testicles. Balls. They do feel like balls. But hot and soft. I fondle them through his underwear, cupping them in my hand and teasing with my fingers.  
    Lazarus moans. His eyes close and his head tilts back. I can feel his arms trembling. And then I do it. I slip my hand into the waistband. We meet at last. His member is smooth, amazingly smooth. I run my fingertips over the surface, exploring. He begins to pant. When I wrap my hand around it and gently slide up and back, he moans again, even louder.  
    “God, what is it about you?” His voice trembles.
    Good question. Surely a lot of women have held this in their hands. Touched it in every possible way. Put it every place under the sun. Why is he going to pieces over this? But I don’t care. I’m not done exploring.
    It throbs in my hand. But I want to see it. I push him over so that he collapses on the bed and rolls onto his back in a daze. He’s under my spell. He is under my spell. His heavy breathing fills the room as I gently pull it free. It springs straight up in the air like a saluting soldier. So hard! So ready! So gorgeous! I take it in my hand again and let my thumb run over the softest skin at the tip. Lazarus arches his back with a grunt. I grip it and stroke up and back several