Page 93 of Can't Get Enough

Her scent, the warmth of her skin, drugs me. I drop my head and press my mouth to the curve of her neck and across her bare shoulder.

“Mav,” she moans, leaning into my kisses.

I thread our fingers together and pull her closer. “I missed you this week, Hen.”

She nods. “Same.”

With my hand splayed at the small of her back, I kiss up the satiny column of her neck, over her chin until I reach her mouth. I expect resistance, but she’s already open for me, and our tongues meet in a starved tangle. She tastes of champagne—expensive and heady and effervescent—the kiss a swirl of decadence. I’m desperate, both hands reaching for her butt and squeezing hard.

“This ass,” I groan. “Fuck. And your legs and your…” I dip to the tops of her breasts, sucking the plumpness into my mouth and then running my tongue into her cleavage. Her scent is intense trapped between the full curves. Eyes locked with hers, I peel the bodice downa little, watching to see if she protests. My mouth is already watering for the first sight of her nipples, but instead there’s another layer of satiny fabric.

“Shapewear,” she laughs. “You think my body is naturally this smooth and tight? Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’m not disappointed. Just determined.” I reach around and find a zipper for the shapewear, pulling it down along with the dress until both pool at her waist. Her breasts are big and crowned with fat nipples the color of blackberries against her cocoa skin. I cup them, testing the weight in my palms, tracing the tips with my thumbs. She draws in a sharp breath and her head tips back, exposing the long line of her throat.

“Shit, Hen.” I don’t even sound like myself. My voice is a strangled stranger.

“You like them?” Hendrix raises her head and her eyes reflect the desperate heat of my own passion. The need to taste her steals rational thought, and I don’t care that the party is in full swing just beyond this coatroom. I don’t care that there’s no lock on the door. I dip my head and take one nipple into my mouth.

“Jesus, Mav,” Hendrix gasps. Her hands palm my head, and I don’t know if she’ll push me away or pull me in. With a broken sigh, she presses me closer, and it’s all the signal I need. I lave her nipples, discovering the velvety texture with just the tip of my tongue for a few blissful seconds.

“Don’t stop.” Hendrix’s words ride a breathy moan.

I suck one nipple into my mouth, gentle at first, but then hard enough to hollow out my cheeks. I rub the other between my thumb and forefinger, and it hardens under my touch. Sade’s “The Sweetest Taboo” seeps through the walls, and it’s in perfect tune with the first time I have her this way because she tastes forbidden on my tongue, but not wrong. So fuckingrightlike my skin has been waiting, the most sensitive nerves dormant all my life until they felt her. Like the electrical impulses that make my heart beat were waiting for her, and she isthe jolt that startles it into beating for the first time. Like nothing and no one else has been this right until now.

Until her.

I don’t even realize I’m grinding against her, but she starts rolling her hips to meet every shallow thrust. Every touch and breath drives the fire between us higher, and I’m on the edge of a cliff, my dick lengthened and hard. I slip my hand under her dress, only to encounter the shapewear again instead of flesh.

“Hen, I want to touch you.” Frustration claws at me when my fingers caress the edge of the satin around her thighs. “Need to taste you.”

“Mav.” She drops her head to mine, pressing our foreheads together. “We can’t. Not here.”

Desperate, I take her hand and pull her behind the changing screen. The privacy it affords is flimsy, but everyone is out on the dance floor. I don’t anticipate being interrupted, but honest to God couldn’t give a damn right now if we were. She looks debauched, breasts out with the dress folded down to her waist and around her hips. Hair spills over her shoulders, and her nipples peekaboo through the long strands. Her lips are pouty, swollen from rough kisses, and I can’t resist taking her mouth again. I press her into the wall, one hand above her head and one palming her breast and stroking the hardened tip.

“Oh, God,” she pants, fumbling with the dress to shove it down and over her hips. “Mav, please.”

The dress pools around her ankles and only the sexy shapewear remains. It’s black and shiny, clinging like a second skin to her hips and thighs. I tug it down over the lush curve of her ass until it joins the dress in a heap at her feet.

I wasn’t prepared to see her fully naked, but she stands before me in nothing but her stilettos, thick and firm and luminous, the overhead lights kissing her brown skin. She is statuesque glamour stacked into a brickhouse body. Smooth, supple, generous curves accessorized with complete confidence. She stands in the light letting me look my fill. No squirming and shifting. Just tall and proud. It forces me to my knees.

I pull one long leg over my shoulder and take her in for the first time. Her pussy is bare and slick, glistening. As soon as I touch the bundle of nerves, she gasps and tosses her head back to thump against the wall.

“Mav,” she moans, rolling her hips and twisting her pretty face with desperation. “Come on now. Stop playing.”

I blow across her, and chuckle when she tries to nudge my face toward her.

“You not gon’ rush me, Hendrix. I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I met you.”

She stares down at me and a frown puckers her sleek brows. “What?”

“Yes,” I affirm, running my palm down the smooth skin of her leg, squeezing the plump softness. “As soon as and ever since.”

I give us what we both crave, spreading her open and burying my face between her legs. She’s whimpering and twisting in my hands, but I hold her still so I can get it exactly the way I want it. She clutches my head, forcing me deeper in and I gladly go, thrusting my tongue inside of her. Pushing two fingers and then three inside, and never letting up.

“Ahhh. You gotta… I need…” She thrashes her head against the wall, the long hair tumbling around her shoulders. “Mav, damn.”

I feel her release before I taste it. The tremor in her leg as it almost buckles. The way her fingers tighten in my hair, tugging until it hurts. I want to taste her forever.

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