She groans as I lick and suck her clit, but when she squeezes her eyes shut and pushes her thighs together, I stop until I gain herattention.
“Sean?”
“Watch me, okay? I want you towatch.”
“Fuck . . .” This time she drags out the word, and from those lips that never curse—at least not until tonight. The sound invokes a visceral reaction, and it’s all I can do to not shuck my pants and push inside her. But I don’t. No, much the way she draws the word out, I want to do the same with her pleasure until she’s riding thehigh.
This time when I go down on Jess, I part her legs and hold her open with one arm. With my free hand I run a finger between her slick folds, working inside before I add another. I match the strokes of my hand to the movements of my tongue. Her moans of need fill my ears and demandmore.
With each passing second her body becomes more rigid and her pants echo in the night. She reaches for me, holding my head at her center as if I would even attempt to pull away. She chants my name, a whisper on her lips, and fuck if that’s not enough for the beast inside to roar withdelight.
I own her pleasure. It becomes my obsession, if only for this moment in time. My own release isn’t even at the forefront of my mind. Everything I do—every kiss, stroke, and lick is for her orgasm. Her body arches, but I hold her hips down and coax her even more until she’s flying, falling apart at mymouth.
I’ve imagined this very experience so many times, but nothing compares to the real life version of watching Jess come. Her release is a taste I’ll never have enough of. As with anything she does, I’m utterly and patheticallyaddicted.
“Sean?” she says, and it’s a question. As if she doesn’t understand how much power she holds. How much I’ve always wanted to share this withher.
I crawl over her body, her skin warm against mine, and kiss her lips. I kiss her as if she’s mine always. I kiss her with all the hopes and fears I have for when this night ends. I kiss her as if she’s the most precious woman to ever share my world, because sheis.
A breeze comes and she shivers again, despite how my body covers most of hers. I pull away to watch her reaction at my next words. “Was that okay?” It’s a serious question. I want to make sure it was good for her in everyway.
She snaps her eyelids shut and I swear if we had more light I’d find a blush on her cheeks. “I think you know it was more than okay.” She opens her eyes and this time her lips twist into a sly smile as her hand reaches between our bodies to palm myerection.
“If you want to stop . . .” I have to exhale slowly to gain control of my thoughts. Her hand on my cock, even over the material of my shorts, is enough to make me want to come. “Or kiss. I’m good with that. I’m good with anything you want to share with me.” The words tumble out in a rush and she stills herhand.
“Oh, okay.” Even though she’s still beneath me, she tries to slide away, jerking her shirt and bra back over her breasts. “If you don’t want to . . .” She turns her chin so I can’t meet hergaze.
“Hey, I want you. Fucking hell, do I want you.” I groan and drop my forehead so it touches hers. “Don’t pull away. I just want to make sure you want more, too. If you’re not ready, I can wait. I willwait.”
“I don’t want to wait.” Her tone is determined. Resolute. She brushes her hand along my jaw until her fingers slide into my hair. A simple gesture but one full of such tenderness and sincerity I’ll surely do whatever this woman wants for all oftime.
“Then let’s go inside.” My lips can’t help but find hers again. “I want you in my bed. I want to see you, Jess. All of you, when you come.” We also need protection and I don’t want to leave her naked and outside while I run upstairs to get acondom.
“A little sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Her lips part in a smile full ofchallenge.
A chuckle escapes my mouth and I push off the lounge chair so I can stand. “How’s that?” I ask and retrieve her shorts andpanties.
“I came once. That’s enough. Now it’s your turn.” She grins but I don’t like the sound of her words. As if she truly believes this is how making loveworks.
“Once for you is not nearly enough.” I reach out my hand until hers is in it, and tug her to her feet. In my arms, I kiss her again. “You can keep track if you’d like, but I won’t.” My words leave her without a response so I take that as a sign she understands. My pleasure isn’t only about getting off. It’s about watching her unfold at my touch. It’s about the vulnerability we share together and her being comfortable enough to let go and trust that I’ve gother.
