Page 79 of Cross the Line
My hands fall to the bottom of his shirt and push it upward, over the contours of his abs. He quickly gets the hint, tugging it off over his head, then throwing it to the floor before grabbing me again. But I press my hands firm against his chest so he can’t pull me toward to him. I need a second to take in the masterpiece beneath me.
I’ve seen Dev shirtless countless times, but this is different. This time I can admire and touch and do everything I’ve fantasized about at night under the covers for literal years.
‘You’re unreal,’ I exhale, running my fingers over the grooves, revelling in the way his muscles flex under my touch. ‘What did they do, make you in a lab?’
The sound he lets out is a cross between a laugh and a groan. ‘If they did, I would have asked them to make me a little taller.’
I snicker and dip my head, finding his stubbled jaw with my lips as my hands continue their exploration. ‘I like you the way you are.’ He’s practically a foot taller than me anyway; neither of us needs to strain our necks more than we already have to. ‘I wouldn’t change anything.’
‘Feeling’s mutual.’ He twists his fingers in the hem of my T-shirt, a question in his eyes when I shift back again. ‘Can I? I want to see you.’
A shiver speeds down my spine. ‘Yes. Please.’
He pulls it up and over my head and sends the fabric floating to the floor to join his, leaving me only in my bra. And just like I did, Dev takes his time to admire the view.
His breath hitches, and I swear the hardness in his jeans grows even more as he drinks me in.
Normally, I’d be conscious of all my flaws – like the faded stretch marks that map the tops of my breasts and the ones that trail down from my waist and dip past my shorts – but just like I’ve seen him half-undressed before, he’s seen me like this too.
There’s something freeing about having known him my whole life. He’s seen me at every stage of life – a skinned-kneed five-year-old, pimple-faced at fourteen, stumbling drunk at twenty-one. He’s seen me on the beach, getting knocked down by waves and brushing sand out of my hair. He’s seen me ten seconds after rolling out of bed, bleary-eyed and wearing hand-me-down sweatpants.
I don’t need to hide a single aspect of myself from him. He’s already seen it all. And yet he’s still here, looking at me like I’m the centre of his universe.
‘You’re perfect,’ he breathes out, shaking his head a little like he can’t quite believe it. He tilts his chin up to find my lips again, giving me the gentlest kiss to punctuate the compliment.
‘Me?’ I mumble, eyes barely open, too intoxicated by him. ‘You’re the one who’s perfect.’
He doesn’t acknowledge the words, like he doesn’t even hear me. He just continues tracing up and down my spine, the warmth of his touch seeping into me. ‘Fucking flawless,’ he continues. ‘God, look at you. How did I get this lucky?’
He drags his lips down my neck and over my collarbone, then places soft kisses between my breasts, touching me like it’s his absolute honour to do so. As he does, I work my way down to the waistband of his jeans, searching for the button. I want more of him.
‘Not yet,’ he says. ‘I want to feel you first.’
He pushes my fingers away from his zipper, then slides his hand between us, the heel of his palm brushing against my core through the thin fabric of my sleep shorts. I gasp at the electricity that shoots up and through my belly. But I lose my breath completely when he pushes my shorts and underwear to the side, his fingertips gliding over my sensitive skin.
‘You’re so wet,’ he murmurs as he slips a finger inside me.
The move drags a moan from my throat. When he adds a second and curls up to brush against a tender spot, my head falls back and I clutch his shoulders, trying to keep my hips from bucking.
‘Don’t hold back,’ he insists against my neck, letting his teeth drag over my skin. ‘Ride my fingers.’
My eyes slide shut as I do what I’m told, rocking forward on his lap. His fingers move in rhythm with my motions, helping me along, and when he adds his thumb to the mix, swirling it around my clit, I swear I see stars. If I could form words, I’d tell him how fucking good it feels.
‘Just like that. Good girl.’
Even in the haze of pleasure, I can hear the rawness of his voice. When I manage to crack my eyes open, he’s studying me, gaze dark and heavy. It’s enough to make me grind down on him, and when I do, flames spark through me.
My breathing grows frantic, like there’s not enough oxygen in the room. It’s all been stolen, fed to the fire blazing at my centre. Dev brings me even closer to the edge when he claims my mouth with his, stealing that last bit of air. And when his thumb moves just a little faster, I’m there, falling headfirst, with no desire to ever stop.
I turn away to gasp for breath, lowering my forehead to his shoulder and resting my hands limply on his chest. He eases his fingers out of me, and wetness trails down my thighs with them. If I wasn’t soaked before, I absolutely am now, and even though I’ve just come, I’m still desperate for more of him.
From the corner of my eye, I watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth. A pleased sound rumbles from the back of his throat.
‘You taste just as sweet as I imagined.’ That’s it. That’s all it takes.
I lift my head, chest still heaving as I suck in air. ‘I need you to fuck me. Immediately.’
‘Willow,’ he admonishes, but his grin is wicked. ‘Such a greedy girl, aren’t you?’
