Page 47 of The Equation of Us
I lean in, pressing my lips to his. The kiss starts gentle but quickly deepens as his hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. I can feel him hardening beneath me, the friction making me gasp against his mouth.
He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down my neck, across my collarbone. “I want to taste you,” he murmurs against my skin. “Every inch of you.”
In one fluid movement, he flips our positions, laying me back on the bed and moving over me. His mouth continues its exploration, down between my breasts, across my stomach, each kiss deliberate and focused. When he reaches the edge of my underwear, he looks up, seeking permission.
“Yes,” I breathe, understanding the unspoken question.
He hooks his fingers into the lace and slides it down my legs, then settles between my thighs, his hands spreading them wider.
“Watch me,” he commands, and this time it is a command. “I want you to see what I’m doing to you.”
I’m curious, and maybe I should feel uncomfortable, but this is Dean—his rules.
I prop myself up on my elbows, meeting his gaze just as his mouth makes contact. The first touch of his tongue sends electricity shooting through me, making my back arch involuntarily. But true to his instruction, I keep watching, unable to look away from the way his eyes sink closed in pleasure as he works me with deliberate precision.
It’s overwhelming—not just physically, but the visual component, the hungry way his mouth devours me, catching glimpses of his circling tongue, the vulnerability of being exposed to him this way. His hands grip my thighs, holding me open and in place as he alternates between long, slow strokes and focused attention that makes my breath hitch.
“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs while planting a hot, open-mouthed kiss on my inner thigh. His thumb strokes my clit while he presses kisses into my thigh.
“Dean,” I gasp as the pressure builds, my hips trying to move against his hold.
He pulls back slightly. “Not yet,” he says, his voice husky. “I’ll tell you when.”
The denial sends another rush of heat through me. I drop my head back, fighting the rising tension in my body.
“Look at me,” he reminds me. “I want to see your face when you come.”
I force myself to look down again, meeting his gaze as he returns to his task with renewed intensity. One of his hands slides up my body to my breast, fingers finding my nipple through the lace of my bra, adding another layer of sensation.
“Please,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m asking for.
He hums against me, the vibration pushing me closer to the edge. Just when I think I can’t take any more, he pulls back again.
“Dean, please,” I beg, frustration edging into my voice.
But instead of continuing, he moves up my body, surprising me by capturing my mouth in a deep kiss. I can taste myself on his lips, a strange intimacy that makes me moan.
“You taste incredible,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Better than I imagined.”
“You’ve imagined this?” I ask, suddenly curious.
A small smile touches his lips. “Of course I have, Nora. You’re beautiful and brilliant, and even when I didn’t want to notice you, I couldn’t stop it.”
There’s something raw in his admission that catches me off guard. Before I can respond, he’s moving down my body again, returning to his position between my thighs.
“Now,” he says, his breath warm against my sensitive flesh. “Now you can come.”
This time, he doesn’t hold back. His mouth works me with passionate intensity, pushing me rapidly toward release. When it hits, it’s overwhelming—waves of pleasure crashing through me as my back arches and my hands fist in the bedding. True to his command, I keep my eyes on his, watching him watch me fall apart.
As I come down from the high, trembling and breathless, Dean moves up to lie beside me, pulling me against his chest.For several moments, we stay like that, my heart rate gradually slowing, his hand drawing lazy patterns on my back.
“That was…” I trail off, unable to find adequate words.
“Yeah,” he agrees, understanding my speechlessness.
I become aware of his arousal, still evident against my hip. “Do you want me to—”
“Not yet,” he interrupts gently. “Just stay here with me for a minute.”
