Page 68 of When She Needs Them Most
“Got any pictures of your mom?”
My lips roll together, and I nod.
“Want to show me some of them?” he asks, running his fingers over the top and bottom of my swollen feet.
“Yeah,” I say, struggling to stretch far enough that I can reach one of the albums.
Kase reaches down with ease, grabbing one and placing it on my lap. I flip the page, and there are pictures of my mom and me when I was about two or three years old.
She had long brown hair and big blue eyes. She was beautiful but looked so much younger than I remember her.
I miss her so fucking much, but sharing some of my favorite memories with Kase sounds like a nice way to pass the time.
At some point during my trip down memory lane, I lean back against the corner of the couch. Kase massages my feet and migrates higher to my calves. I flip the book around, showing him pictures upon pictures, and he listens without interrupting. By the time I make it to the end, I’m happy I looked through them.
I’ve been avoiding pictures of my mom for years. At first, because the grief was too fresh, and then because I was worried seeing her would make me sad.
But it didn’t.
And if Kase hadn’t asked me to show him pictures, I probably would have continued on avoiding them.
Since it was just a quick walk from their house to mine, I didn’t bother with leggings. Kase’s hands skim higher on my thighs, and my head falls back as I relish the feeling of his skin against mine. He still massages as he goes, but when he reaches my panties, he shamelessly swipes two fingers down the front, tracing my lower lips.
Kase stretches over me, planting a hand on the arm of the couch next to my head. “I’m fairly sure you never got to christen this house.” He brushes his nose over mine. “Isn’t that a shame?”
I smile, but it gets lost in our kiss as he pushes his lips to mine and simultaneously grabs both sides of my underwear, tugging on them. He holds himself up using his core and waits for me to push up my hips, making it possible for him to get them down to my knees without ripping the material.
There’s nothing sexy about maternity panties, but Kase doesn’t appear to mind. He doesn’t even bother getting them all the way off my legs before he slides his fingers over my lower lips and brings his other arm up to frame my head.
His kisses are playful but not as tentative as they have been before. He smiles against my lips when he locates my clit.
It’s so Kase.
He’s endearing as hell.
My nose wrinkles, picking up his arousal in the air. It causes an immediate reaction in my system, making my nipples tighten. My hand moves to cup his, and I give him a little instruction on how to tease my clit.
It takes a bit, but his frantic ministrations, combined with the desperate way he kisses me like he can’t get enough, catch up fast. My core clenches around nothing, and I can sense how slick I’ve become.
I groan as he pulls back from the kiss and climbs down. He’s so long that he has to either be scrunched up, or his legs hang off the end of the couch, but I can’t see over my stomach.
It’s frustrating.
I’m genuinely tired of being pregnant, but Kase distracts me by pulling my underwear down and off my feet. He shoulders my thighs apart and settles between them. The last few times I’ve been intimate with one of them, my pheromones have beenin control. There wasn’t time to feel overly self-conscious or to worry that I haven’t shaved inmonths.
Kase spreads me open and dives in without any concern for extra hair. He’s not very coordinated, but his enthusiasm gets the job done, especially when he thrusts two fingers inside me.
I’d love to be able to see him, but even when I shimmy back, trying to sit up a little, all I see is my stomach. He growls, holding me in place even tighter. My hands dig into his curls, and I guide him where I want him to go.
“God, Chelsea, you taste like sugar cookies.” Kase growls, and the sound seems to vibrate against my clit as he dives into making me scream once again.
Pleasure builds slow and steady, because he’s not consistent with his ministrations, but he gets me there. The way his fingers stretch against my inner walls seems to be what pushes me over the edge.
My fingers dig into the back of his head as I hold him in place. “Right there. Just flick your tongue right there.”
Kase is excellent at following instructions. My skin sizzles as euphoria washes through my cells. I tremble and ride out the wave while Kase tries to suck my soul out through my clit.
“Ugh.” I grunt, giving his hair a tug. “Too much.”
