Page 63 of Hot Girl Summer

Chapter Seventeen

Hishandspracticallyflyto my face, and in one swift movement he has me slammed against the wall, his lips against mine, kissing me like I’m the only thing that can sate his hunger.

If this is how it feels to be wanted, I won’t settle for anything less ever again.

I melt under his touch, encompassed by his warmth and the sweeping scent of citrus and white florals as the low sun beats through the windows, bathing us in warmth and golden light.

I shrug off my backpack, and it falls to the floor with my helmet. His palm slides down my back, and he pauses when his fingers reach the hem of my top. My breath hitches, and my lips tingle, begging to be touched again.

Inching up the soft cotton, he uses both hands to pull it over my head, then he kisses me again with his hands in my hair, free flowing between my neck and collarbone, before exploring my mouth once again. Butterflies swarm my belly, and heat spreads between my legs as he gently caresses my tongue with his. I tighten my arms around him, and I can feel his mouth curl into a smile.

A soft bite on my lower lip signals a time out.

“Don’t stop,” I moan, wanting more.

He moves his mouth down my chest, and my breath hitches as he pulls down the top of my sports bra and takes my nipple in his mouth. I moan a little louder, and he gently tugs it between his teeth. Warmth floods my insides as I grip his hair.

“Is this okay?” he asks, between heavy breaths, meeting my gaze for approval.

I nod.

“I need a yes.”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Never have I ever been called beautiful, and it sounds glorious coming from his mouth.

He repeats the motion on my other breast, slowly trailing down to my navel, and pausing to catch his breath. I remove my sports bra and kick off my trainers. Light, soft kisses trail down towards the waistband of my yoga pants. He pulls them, along with my underwear, slowly over the curve of my ass, then down over my thighs and calves, and I step out of them.

It doesn’t bother me in the slightest that he’s still fully clothed, because him in a crisp, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up turns me on just as much as if he were naked. He could wear a potato sack and still be one million percent fuckable.

He nestles his head between my legs, and the anticipation kills me. I raise my arms above my head, using the weight of the door to steady myself. He kisses the inside of each thigh, leaving teasing wet trails on my skin as he moves closer to my centre, which burns from the heat of his breath. The instant his mouth makes contact, I let out an involuntary moan, arching my back as my whole body tingles.

Slow and meticulous, he caresses me with his whole mouth, sliding his tongue over my clit as he slips in a finger. His five o’clock shadow grazing against my bare skin heightens every sensation, and I fight every urge to pull him towards me and grind my hips against his face.

“Fuck,” I breathe, my hands in his hair.

He glances up, arresting me with those hazel eyes and perfect dimples, while he pumps his finger and buries his mouth on me, upping the tempo to compliment my breathing.

This. This is how I’ve always wanted to be looked at. With undeniably raw, savage lust. This is what I’ve been missing my entire life.

With his other hand, he grabs the back of my thigh, lifts it, and hooks it over his shoulder. I buckle, dripping beads of nectar as his confident tongue explores deeper.

Pushing my hands into his hair, I grip his scalp, pulling at the thick dark strands. Writhing against him, he laps up my liquid, and my body gives in to the mounting pressure, forcing my legs to weaken. My entire body pulses and floods with warmth.

Sweet relief engulfs me. I pause, taking a moment for my heart to slow, and I focus on deep, measured breaths, while he carefully unhooks my leg, and kisses my knee.

Satisfied, and completely at his surrender, I slide down to the ground, tucking my legs beneath me. He kneels beside me, and brushes his lips against mine in the softest and most delicate way, but it’s enough to taste my sweetness on him—a taste I could easily get used to.

“That was…incredible,” I finally say.

I can’t find a better word to describe the insatiable feeling, but it doesn’t stop me feeling hungry for more, or for wanting to climb on the roof and shout out every delicious detail of Danny’s perfect mouth.

I eye the bulge in his chinos once more, and for a slight second, I hesitate. I can’t face being rejected again, not after the first time I mentioned it. But curiosity gets the better of me.

“Why didn’t you want me to take care of you before?” I feel the floor for my clothes and slide them back on. “Believe it or not, some girls actually like giving. I’m some girls…just so we’re clear.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to.” He pauses. “Fuck, I want you...more than anything. But until I have the piece of paper in my hand telling me that my marriage is completely over, I don’t feel like I can give in to you. If I put a foot wrong, I’ll lose everything. I don’t trust her.”

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