There’s nothing under them but him. All of him.
Raw, feral need for Felix boils in my veins.
More—I need more.
I need him. Need skin-to-skin contact.
I need an orgasm I didn't give myself.
I need to feel him lose control, knowing I brought him there.
I need him to take me. To make me his.
I need to make him mine.
You don't deserve this. Dutchie was your husband and he's dead. You should be in mourning, still. Where's your grief? How can you move on so fast?The voice is cruel and nasty. The voice is my own.
I grip Felix's sides and push the voice away, shove my tongue into his mouth—his surging growl of desire scorches the voice into nothing.
With his mouth on mine, his tongue dancing with mine, Felix sweeps his hands under my shirt to explore my back, skipping over my sports bra strap. Under my shirt, up to my shoulders, back down to my waist. To my belly.
Up.
I lean back without losing his mouth on mine, lift my arms over my head—he grants my request and removes my shirt. I break the kiss only as long as necessary—the second the fabric is past my face, I slash my lips over his again, fuse them to his, whimpering and then gasping as his hands rush roughly up my stomach to cup my breasts over my bra.
I gasp again at this touch, mouth hanging open as he grips the weight of my tits, thumbs brushing over the bumps of my erect nipples. "Fee," I breathe. "I love how you touch me."
I hope he reads this as the encouragement it is—more.
More.
“That works out,” he whispers, pulling away from the kiss, “because I love touching you."
His fingers slip under the strap at my back, pause, his eyes on mine. My response is to trail my fingers down his abs, shimmying backward on his thighs so I can hook my fingers inside the elastic of his shorts. He scrapes his hands up my back, taking the strap of my bra with them, palm calluses rough on my skin. The bra snags and strains at my breasts as he tugs the strap upward, and then with a sudden rubber band snap, the bra slips up past my breasts, which fall free with a swaying bounce. His eyes follow their movement greedily.
"Fuck, Ember," he breathes. "you're perfect."
“Touch me," I whisper. "Please."
I do not have to ask him twice. He cups them in his big work-roughened hands, kneading and squeezing them, letting them go so they fall and sway before lifting them again. My nipples are hard and erect and aching and his thumbs scrape over them, eliciting a gasp from me.
Felix leans into me, kissing my breastbone, the slice of skin between my breasts. Lifts one and kisses underneath it where it joins to my torso and then the underside, and then my nipple is in his mouth and I'm clutching at his head and arching my back as he trades one breast for the other, licking and suckling and then kissing and teasing around the circle of my areolae. I feel his arousal beneath me, a hard ridge sheathed behind his shorts and my leggings and underwear.
I want it.
I play with the hair at the back of his head as he continues to worship my tits, tipping my head back and just…wallow in the wonder of this, of his mouth on me, on the swell of arousal in my core. His hard cock beneath me begs for my touch, teasing me with each shift of our bodies.
Felix pulls away from my boobs, cupping them and gazing up at me with his palest blue eyes blazing with arousal. "Need more of you, Ember," he murmurs. "Need to watch you come apart for me."
"Please," I whisper. "Please, Felix."
It's all I can manage—my throat is tight with nerves and hot with desire, my flesh tingles and my nipples are so hard they ache, and my core is pulsing and drenched.
Felix stands up, twists to deposit me on the couch, sinking to his knees in front of me. Leans between my splayed-apart knees, wedging his big body between my thighs, cupping my tits and kissing my diaphragm, my belly. My navel. Nerves sing inside me—you'd think this was my first time, I'm so nervous.
He curls fingers inside the waistband of my plain, tight, black leggings and the black thong beneath them. His eyes go to mine, silently asking permission. I press my heels into the floor and lift my ass.
He strips my leggings and thong off inside out and tosses them away, and I'm bare for him, nipples hard, sex exposed and dripping desire, thighs wanting to close, breath coming in short, sharp gasps of nervous excitement.
