Page 190 of Hide and Keep

After kissing my palm, he places it on the back of his neck.

“I’m going to kiss you everywhere you let me.” His hands cup my jaw, and one thumb massages my lips. “Can I kiss you here?”

I give the barest headshake.

“Then I’m gonna kiss as close to this mouth as I can get.”

Slowly leaning forward, he kisses that thumb. His lips never touch mine, yet my heart races all the same.

After he pulls back, he says quietly, “One day you will beg me to kiss you there. Until then…”

Lowering, he kisses both shoulders, both collarbones, then both boobs, quickly sucking on the second’s peak.

A moan builds in my throat and I bring my other hand up to grasp his head, holding him to me.

He guides me backward by my hips enough for him to lower a knee to the floor in front of me, kissing his way down my stomach to my shorts’ waistband.

Hooking his thumbs in the top, he drags them and my underwear down, his lips never leaving my skin as he kisses down one leg, ankle, and foot, before taking the same path up the other side.

Crue leans back to see my body in its entirety. Feet, knees, thighs, pussy, stomach, chest, then finally, my face.

Through dark lashes, his eyes don’t even look human when they meet mine, the color almost glowing.

“Jesus Christ, Ever, you’re gorgeous.”

Goddess, I want him in me. Now.

“You should see what you look like.” Because I’ve never seen anything hotter than Crue Brantley kneeling before me.

I let my knees go soft and start to lower myself, but Crue catches me.

“Hold on. Not yet.”

Rearranging his legs so he’s sitting, he brings me forward again until I’m in a standing straddle over his chest. He reclines a bit, then helps me step around each of his shoulders so I’m standing directly over his face.

Only a matter of inches between his nose and my pussy, he says, “Now you can do your thing.”

“Mything?”

“Rub your clit on my tongue long enough for you to come all over it.”

He asked, repeatedly. And now he’s giving me all the control.

I’m in control.

He won’t do anything I don’t agree to.

He’s not Mallory.

Biting my bottom lip, I prop my hands on the mattress, arch my back, then close those inches until my pussy meets Crue’s parted mouth.

Automatically, he seizes my ass cheeks, hard enough for me to deepen my arch, my clit in perfect position for Crue to flattenhis tongue against. Instead of rolling my hips, I choose to stay where I am, keeping the pressure as I grind up and down on Crue’s tongue.

He’s not Mallory. This is different. I want this. I want Crue.

Tension builds between my legs, mounting to impossible heights.

Yes. I want him. I want to do this with him. This is how it should always be. My choice. My say. I decide what happens to my body.

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