Free Dance of the Crystal by Cris Anson

nipples made his cock even harder, if that was possible. He ducked his head down and captured one through the shimmery lace, tonguing it, sucking it deep into his mouth.
    Crystal jerked and arched her back, as if giving tacit approval to his hungry movements. He fumbled his fingers around to the back of her bra, seeking the hook that would release the lacy cage holding her breasts. He moaned in frustration at the unbroken swath of fabric across her back.
    As if understanding his goal, she leaned back a smidge. “The front,” she gasped between kisses, “it’s a clasp, not a hook.”
    Soren’s lust-filled brain couldn’t quite comprehend the concept of front clasp. His scrabbling got more frantic until he finally pulled one breast from its cup and let the pointed tip of it poke straight out from its hammock. He zeroed in on it, the finally bare skin of her breast, her naked nipple inside his mouth, and he licked and sucked and pinched like a starving man.
    “Soren, wait.” Crystal edged herself back a few inches on his thighs and grabbed the hem of her sweater with crossed arms. One yank and it was over her head and on the floor. “Here,” she said, breathing raggedly, her hands going between her breasts. “See? A clasp.” She flicked her wrists. The bra fell open.
    She wiggled the straps down her shoulders and let the bra fall to the floor.
    Soren’s throat closed up as he saw those soft, plump breasts jiggling mere inches away from him.
    “Beautiful,” he whispered. He trailed his fingers around the areolas, inordinately pleased to see the little bumps on them swell. “So smooth. So creamy.” He would have liked to stroke them, admire them, for hours, but he was thinking with his little head now, not his big one. He took a breast in each hand, kneaded them, squeezed them together. “I’d like to put my cock right in between them,” he growled.
    Then dipped his head again, trying to get both nipples in his mouth at once, greedy bastard that he was.
    “Wait,” she said breathlessly, yanking at his polo shirt. “Your turn.”
    It took a moment for her comment to sink in. Reluctantly he released his hold on her breasts and shucked off his shirt. He glanced at her, ready to return to suckling the most delicious pair of breasts he’d ever touched. The fascinated look on her face stilled him.
    “Oh. My. God.” She trailed her splayed fingers down his hairy chest. “I’ve never seen a man with…”
    She lay her palms against his chest and swept outward, matting the hair, then inward to muss it again.
    Out, then in. Out, in. As if fascinated.
    Soren couldn’t stand being still a minute longer. About to explode with lust, he pulled her to him roughly, rubbed her breasts against the hair that fascinated her. His skin felt on fire. The scrape of her taut nipples against him only added fuel to his impending meltdown.
    He wanted everything at once—his face buried in her hair, inhaling its subtle fragrance. The feel of her teeth scraping his neck, nipping his ear. Their mouths, fumbling blindly until they found each other’s and fused them together with heat and suction and hunger. He needed skin to skin, all of it, from nose to toes.
    With an urgency he couldn’t contain, Soren stood, lifted Crystal by the waist and set her on her bare feet. He dropped to his knees, ripped open the snap and zipper on her jeans and jerked the denim down to her ankles. In some small, sane corner of his mind he knew she was the kind of woman who’d want hearts and flowers, sweet words whispered in her ear, a Rhett Butler gesture of carrying her up the stairs to the bedroom. But damn, he was out of practice, and she was so hot, she was all over him like honey on pancakes, even now fumbling at the snap of his own jeans as he stood—
    “Whoa, babe!” His brain cleared enough to realize that she couldn’t pull down the zipper around his swollen cock without his careful help. And if she so much as touched it, he’d come like