Page 39 of Taking Denver

“Take off my clothes,” she whispers.

Her nipples are already hard and pressing against the thin fabric of her loose linen shirt, and I deftly flick each button free. I kiss the skin revealed beneath, and Denver takes in a sharp breath as I move the material aside, my palm gliding across her nipples before taking one in my mouth. I massage her other breast, soft, warm, and pliable in my hand.

“You’re so beautiful,” I say. “I haven’t been able to think about anything but you all day.”

She whimpers softly, and something warms inside of me at the sight of her this way. She’s vulnerable, at ease, almost calm, and given the wildness of her life, this version of her must be rare.

Reluctantly, I release her nipple from my mouth and sit up. Gripping her shorts and underwear, I pull them both down in one swift moment, and Denver lifts her hips to help.

Once she’s fully exposed to me, I hold back a feral sound building in my throat. Smooth, pink, and already glistening, she’s my next fucking meal, and I kiss between her legs.

I flatten my tongue against her, closing my lips around her sweetness, tasting her, teasing her. Denver entwines her fingers in my hair, grinding herself against my mouth, eager, desperate for more. I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue, sucking it into my mouth, and when I nibble, she cries out softly.

If I continue like this, I’m going to come before I’ve even fucked her, but I can’t get enough of her taste, her smell, and the sounds she makes when I push my tongue inside her warmth.

“Oh god?—”

I cast a glance up, the curve of Denver’s breasts magnificent in the moonlight falling through the windows. She looks like a work of art, her arm reaching above her and gripping the pillow, her eyes closed, pink lips parted on a moan.

I sit up again and reach back, pulling off my t-shirt and throwing it to the ground. I climb off the bed to unzip my jeans and push them down, my cock finally free, but it still aches painfully, desperate to be buried inside her.

Denver props herself up on her elbows, her sigh mingling with a longing groan. “I fucking love your dick.”

I grip the base of my cock and squeeze, the tip shining. “Prove it.”

A world of want reflects in the gray of her eyes, and the lines of reality and fantasy blur when she shifts to the end of the bed and wraps her lips around me.

“Fucking Christ,” I whisper, running my fingers through her hair. Her cheeks hollow out as she takes me across her tongue, eyes glistening with tears as I touch the back of her throat. She grips my thighs, nails pressing into the muscle, and never looks away from me. I’m lost in her—her eyes, her warmth, the anticipation of fucking her after needing it for so long. “Swallow around me.”

She does, her throat tightening around my cock, and I groan, pleasure pulsing through my balls. She uses her hand where her lips can’t reach, moving in perfect rhythm as I watch. I’m addicted to the sight, committing everything to memory—her dreamy, lust-filled expression, her flushed cheeks, the tears in her eyes.

“Condoms,” I breathe.

She climbs off the bed, pumping my wet cock in her hand. I hiss in pleasure, and she pushes me back onto the bed. The nightstand drawer opens and closes, and she straddles me before her lips find mine again. She tastes of me, her tongueslowly swiping across mine, and I groan into her mouth as she rolls the condom onto me.

Warmth touches the end of my cock, and Denver slides herself down, her eyes rolling back as she takes all of me.

Holy fuck.

I might have said it out loud. I’m not entirely sure. I’m dizzy when she moves her hips, a slow, tentative rock at first, her hands planted flat on my chest as she adjusts to me.

“Jesus,” I whisper, gripping her hips, admiring the slow bounce of her breasts as she moves faster.

Goosebumps climb across my skin, and waves of pleasure work through me with every roll of her hips. Fuck, she’s good at this. It’s taking everything in me not to lose control before her.

“Kiss me,” she whispers, our lips meeting again.

I can feel her tightening, and I circle my thumb over her clit. She jerks slightly at the sensation, a quiet gasp escaping her throat.

“Are you going to come for me?” I ask against her mouth, and she nods quickly, her eyes squeezed closed. “Then look at me. Look at me while I make you come.” Her eyes fly open, the gray shining in the dark, her bottom lip pressed between her teeth. “Say my name as you come, Denver.”

She takes in a sharp breath, and I grip her hips tighter, moving her back and forth as she rolls them. She blinks quickly, eyes widening. “Ethan, oh?—”

She comes, pulsing around my cock, her cries echoing as she rides out the pleasure.

“On your back,” I say, and she obliges without argument. I grin as I sit up and nudge her knees apart, kneeling between her legs. “I like post-orgasm Denver. She actually listens.”

She gives me the finger, but it lacks her usual fire, and my grin widens.

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