Page 4 of Remember Me

“Fuck, you have no idea how amazing they are now,” he said. “Did you know that every morning when you wake up, I have to force myself not to look at your nipples? They poke through your shirt now, taunting me with their mere presence. I get hard every single time I look at you, and it’s inconvenient, to say the least.”

He dropped to his knees, so his face was level with my chest, and without hesitation, captured one of my nipples between his teeth. He tugged with just enough pressure to make me gasp, then soothed the sting with a slow, deliberate lick. His hand slid up to cup my other breast, his fingers pinching and twisting the already-sensitive peak until I whimpered at the sharp mix of pain and pleasure shooting straight between my legs.

Then he sucked hard. Sharp, hungry and possessive, his tongue swirled around the bud before he released it with a wet pop that made my thighs clench. My breath hitched as he alternated between soft licks and sharp nips, and my body melted into him, silently begging for more.

Ialwayswanted more from him.

He brought both breasts together and buried his face between them with a groan. “Perfect,” he whispered into my skin. “Every single piece of you,” he continued, “is made for me and I want to spend the morning studying you.”

I tilted my head, half-teasing. “The morning of the Super Bowl might not be the best time to start that.”

Before I could fully process, his hands slid lower, his fingers slipping between my thighs with the kind of ease that only came from years of knowing every inch of someone. His touch was slow and deliberate as his fingers teased me like he had the entire morning to make me beg.

“Well, damn,” he muttered. “You’re already dripping for me, and I’ve barely touched you.”

My breath hitch as his thumb brushed over my clit, just enough to make me twitch.

When I lost my footing, he caught me and kissed the dip of my stomach, taking his time around my stretch marks as though he was worshipping them. He looked up and me with hungry eyes, and I was thankful my hand was on the tiled walls because my knees were weak.

“You know how crazy it makes me seeing you like this, don’t you? All wet and pretty, knowing you’re all mine?”

His palm smoothed down my leg before he hooked it over his shoulder to open me up to him. When he knew I was steady, he kissed his way up my inner thigh. I closed my eyes, easing back until I felt the tiles behind me and by the time his mouth reached my center, I was already shaking.

“Oh, fu—”

I couldn’t finish because his tongue started stroking my clit.

“Just relax,” he muttered as his tongue flicked against me before he flattened his tongue and dragged it through my folds. Then he sucked my clit into his mouth, making me cry out as I scrabbled for balance and buried one of my hands through his hair.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Grind that pretty pussy in my face.”

“Devin,” I gasped, barely able to form a sentence.

He chuckled as his tongue worked in slow, deliberate strokes, alternating between soft and insistent, keeping me right on the edge.

“I love hearing you moan my name like that. Are you going to come for me?”

I whimpered and my thighs tightened around his head as he sucked my clit into his mouth again, his fingers moving in the same rhythm.

My body was vibrating, and I was on the edge, holding it back, needing to stay on the precipice of an orgasm a little longer.

“I wanna feel it,” he rasped. “Want to taste every last drop when you fall apart for me. Do you hear me? I want you to come on my fucking tongue.”

That was it. I shattered. It was loud and desperate, because I wasn’t thinking about whether the door was locked or if we’d get interrupted by anyone. The only thing that mattered was my husband on his knees for me.

My body spasmed as the orgasm tore through my body, but he didn’t stop. There was no letting up from Devin. He just kept licking and sucking and fucking me with his fingers until I was wrung out and shaking.

When he finally slowed and started to kiss me softly, I could barely stand.

By the time I could form a coherent thought, Devin was already rising to his feet, his lips slick with the evidence of what he’d just done to me. He dragged his tongue slowly across them like he was savoring it, and the look in his eyes nearly undid me all over again.

Water beat steadily against our skin, steam swirling around us as he reached past me to grab the body wash. I didn’t even try to stop him. I couldn’t. My limbs were jelly; my brain was still floating somewhere in the haze of what he’d just done to me.

He lathered the soap in his hands, then started running them over my body in slow, thorough and possessive strokes. I loved the way he could make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world without trying.

When he pulled back, his voice was low and full of heat. “See?” he said, mouth brushing mine. “Told you I had time to make you feel good.”

I laughed, breathlessly. “Yeah, yeah. Rub it in.”

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