Page 113 of Love Sick

My lips part, teeth catching his thumb. His gaze drops to my mouth as the tip of my tongue touches his skin, tasting of lime.

His hand slides farther up my leg and I subdue the urge to scoot closer. “Do you want to hear all the things I’ve imagined this mouth doing? God, Grace. Look at you.” His gaze sweeps down my body, lingering where my dress has ridden up to my hips, exposing my black lace thong. “Who the fuck would think you’re cold?”

My breath stutters as his fingers climb higher. Where is the embarrassment? The fear that always accompanies this? The worry that he won’t like the sounds I make, the way I look, the time it takes to warm me up?

It isn’t there, and the impression of Julian Santini’s fingers against my flesh burns through the cells in my body, rewriting their DNA.This is how it’s supposed to be. This is who you want.

“And here?” he says.

I can’t help the moan that gathers in my throat when his fingers brush over the lace. His thumb falls away from my mouth as I lean back without thought, my hands flat on the countertop behind me to give him better access.

“This is not cold.” His eyes have gone from fevered to inferno, and he’s leaning toward me, one hand bracing his weight, the other drawing teasing circles over the lace. “And any man who can’t figure out how to make you moan like that doesn’t deserve you. Your body knows how to do this. You just need the right touch.”

I stare deep into his eyes, mesmerized. Everything about him is like a drug designed specifically for me. I can’t think. Can’t breathe. A lick of trepidation slides along my spine at the power he has over me, at the look on his face that says he wants to turn me inside out in the best of ways. I won’t be the same after this, will I?

“Do you need me to prove that too, Grace?” he asks.

A wave of pleasure shivers through my spine. “Please.”

He slips aside the lace barrier between us at once and slides a finger against my skin.

I tremble at the contact, at the sparks that shower through my abdomen.

It’s never been like this, and my control falls to pieces around me. All hesitation disappears, and I reach for him with one hand, fingers yanking at his collar until his lips land on mine. He takes his time with the kiss, devouring me while his fingers dance across my nerves below.

Sighs echo through the kitchen with each of my breaths and my body finds a rhythm against his hand, riding it to find the highest sensation. His other hand slides up my waist until he reaches my breast. Even through my bra, pleasure echoes, spiraling down between my legs.

He teases me with the tip of his tongue, and I chase him, begging for a deeper kiss. I move faster. Harder. Grind against his hand.

“Fuck, Julian.” I lose my rhythm after several minutes, and the kiss breaks.

He gives a deep hum as he brushes kisses over my cheek. “Have I ever told you how much I love the way you say my name?”

I pant against him.

He chuckles, changing the tempo of his fingers until embarrassing noises spill from my mouth. “I really do, Grace. You say it like you’re planning to lecture me.”

The pinnacle is close, but out of reach like usual. I’m desperate for it, whimpering.

“Look at who’s getting the lecture now.” His teeth nip at my neck. “Such a good little student.”

“Julian.” I beg him and I don’t care, whispering pleas ofYesandPleaseandFaster.

It draws nigh, the release. Hovers. I’m staring over the edge, unable to fall.

His lips touch my ear. “It’s right there, beautiful. Just take it.”

He does something that has me biting his shoulder through his shirt to keep from screaming. It shoots down my legs into my toes and blossoms with hot dazzling waves through my entire body. My fingers creep around his neck and clench as I ride his hand. When it passes, he draws out a few more shock waves. I jerk against his fingers before he pulls them away.

My eyes blink open and I find him staring at me with a flushed face.

He grazes his lips against mine. “Not cold.”

He starts to move away, but I grab the fabric over his stomach, and slide my hands to the button of his jeans, undoing it before I change my mind.

“Grace, you—”

After one wet lick to my palm, my hand slips around him, thick and hard, and his words dissolve into a curse. I’ve always felt like an idiot doing this, but when Julian’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip, a tiny bolt of pride zaps through me. His forehead falls to my shoulder.

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