Page 90 of Hang the Moon


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He lifted his head, sealing his mouth over hers, swallowing the soft, needy sounds she made as he let his hands drift down her sides, her skin like silk under his fingertips. When he encountered lace, her tugged the crotch of her underwear to the side and drew his mouth from hers, eyes darting down. He groaned quietly at the sight she made. Cream lace framed golden skin and pretty pink flesh atop the dark marble beneath her.

He ran his fingers up her slit, parting her folds, gathering wetness, dragging it up to her clit. She moaned and clutched his shoulders, drawing his mouth back down to hers as her nails dug into the skin at the back of his neck.

He’d learned she liked it best when he made short, quick circles around her clit. Her breath hitched, then sped, her thighs quivering and drawing in around his hips as she got close.

Dragging his mouth along the curve of her cheek and down her jawline, he nipped at her skin and soothed each gentle bite with a kiss. When he reached her ear, he sucked the lobe between his lips and scraped it with the edge of his teeth. Her nails bit harder into his skin, making him hiss and speed up his ministrations between her thighs.

He nudged the shell of her ear with the tip of his nose and murmured softly, “Does this feelnice?”

Her hips bucked against his hand and she gave a sharp, breathless laugh. “Shut up.”

He laughed and replaced his fingers with his thumb, sliding two fingers inside her, crooking them upward.

Her breasts shoved against his chest as her back bowed, a soft whine filling the kitchen as she shook and came apart under his fingers.

“Fuck,” she murmured, and dropped her head to his chest, clutching at his arms. She continued to flutter around his fingers, her body twitching with the occasional aftershock he drew out, pumping his fingers inside of her slowly, curling them occasionally, making her whimper sweetly, sounds that went straight to his cock. A louder moan tore itself from her throat as she rocked against his hand harder. “You’re going to make me come again.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and curled his fingers harder. “That was the plan.”

He’d see herniceand raise herearth-shattering. He might nothave been the expert on all things love related like he’d once thought, but he was positive that—in addition to making her laugh and showering her with affection in the form of thoughtful little gestures—spending as much time with his head and his hands between her thighs as she’d allow put him on the right track.

Beneath his lips, sweat broke out along her forehead, making her skin damp and dewy, and the baby-fine hair around her temples clung to it. His heart beat faster, in time with the desperate noises falling off her lips.

Annie buried her face in his shoulder, stifling a shriek he’d have rather heard. But the way her hot breaths tickled his neck and sent shivers down his spine made up for it.

Her breathing had come close to approaching normal when she shoved his shoulders back and slipped off the counter. The suddenness made him frown. “Annie—”

The question died on his tongue when she sank down to her knees in front of him and curled her fingers around his cock.

“Jesus.” He gripped the edge of the counter when she wrapped her lips around him, drawing him into the exquisite heat of her mouth.

All his plans to wring another orgasm from her with his cock flew out the window. He made a mental note to make it up to her later.

His eyes fluttered shut and he lost himself in the perfect feel of Annie—her hands, one on his thigh and the other wrapped around the base of his cock, the ever-quickening glide of her mouth up his length, the way she flicked her tongue against thevein on the underside of his shaft. The silk of her hair when he gently threaded his fingers through it.

He was close. A soft hum around his cock made his eyes fly open, and the sight of Annie on her knees, staring up at him with wide blue eyes and hollowed cheeks, was enough to make his knees weaken. He gripped the counter harder, his knuckles turning white.

“’M close,” he warned, cupping her face and stroking her cheek with his thumb.

She doubled her efforts and hummed softly, his undoing. His eyes snapped shut and behind his clenched lids, bright stars flashed.

“Holy shit,” were the first words out of his mouth as soon as he regained the ability to speak.

Annie laughed, and with her hands wrapped around the bottom of his shirt, she dragged him down to the floor. The tile was hard and unforgiving, but he followed because he’d have been a fool to put up a fight. If she asked him to go to the moon for her, he’d figure out a way to get there. Try his damnedest at the very least.

He’d do anything, if he had even an inkling it would bring a smile to her face.

Sometime later—how long he didn’t know because the clock was out of sight and he was too lazy to check—after he’d regained enough feeling in his limbs to successfully bunch his pants behind his head, unable to move any further in search of an actual pillow, he swallowed hard. “Hey, Annie?”

More than ever before, his chest burned with the need tospeak his truth. To make his feelings known and hope they were on the same page.

She traced shapes into his stomach that made him shiver pleasantly, her fingers raking through the coarse hair beneath his belly button. “Mm-hmm?”

Caring about Annie made him feel like he was reaching for the sun; how close would she let him get? Would he wind up burning like Icarus if he flew too close, pressed too hard, wanted too much?

It was now or never. “Just—let me get this out, okay? Don’t say anything, or... don’t feel like youhaveto say anything. Not until—”

“Brendon.” She rested her chin on the notch at the bottom of his sternum, and it was a wonder her head didn’t bounce with the way his heart pounded against the wall of his chest. Her lips twitched upward, her expression verging on bemused. “Breathe.”