Page 83 of Blind Prophet

She pushes up and removes my shirt. Her touch on my skin, her active undressing of me while she’s nearly nude, is enough to bring that urge to take her fast and hard roaring back.

With my shirt gone and her task accomplished, she drops her chin, looking me over appreciatively. She pushes me back until I’m reclining into the cushion and trails kisses down my chest until she arrives at a nipple and sucks, twirling her tongue.

That’s my game she’s playing, and the action has the desired effect.

Fuck. I’m so hard. My fingers itch to take over, but what she’s doing feels too good. Just having her fingers on me, her hot mouth…

She bites playfully, then rubs the pad of her thumb over the nipped skin. She presses her body against mine, then pulls back, her expression full of questions and concern.

“What are we doing?”

Her question tells me that I’ve let things slow down too much, and questions are creeping in. That won’t do.

“Acting on our desires.”

I roll her pliant body under me, hissing as our chests meld, the first skin-on-skin contact we’ve had in far too many years. I find her center and press my hand over her, moving it back and forth just the way she likes it.

She releases a throaty moan that risks undoing me.

“Patience.”

My directive is as much for me as for her.

She reaches for my jeans, but I tsk.

Possession. That’s the goal.

My lips nibble along her slender neck, biting and sucking until she squirms. I continue to her breasts, tugging at the lace, exposing her right breast, kneading it, sucking on the nipple, swirling my tongue. Her fingers scrape my scalp, toying with me as I play with her.

She pulls away, letting me know she’s almost had too much, and I repeat the actions with her left breast. With one hand, I unsnap her bra and leave it dangling off her shoulders as I descend, licking and kissing my way down.

She lifts her knees, spreading her thighs.

I touch her, lifting my gaze to meet hers as I do. Her chest rises and falls slowly.

“You’re wet.”

She swallows and gives a quick nod.

I drop my mouth, tasting her. She gasps and fists my hair.

I’ve missed this. I didn’t pleasure her nearly enough when I had her.

As my mouth works her over, my finger plunders her core, stretching her tight heat, smooth as silk. I continue on and on, revelling in her moans and the slight shifts. Her hips roll, and her thighs tighten around my ears. And that’s it; she comes. My fingers stop moving, and my tongue presses firmly against her clit, letting her orgasm linger.

She swipes her forehead and gulps for air.

“God, I forgot how good you are at that.”

“Hmm. I didn’t forget how good you taste.”

She suppresses a laugh. I can tell she’s holding back by the way she covers her mouth hastily with the back of her hand and the way her eyes glow with amusement.

She’s the most beautiful thing. Willowy. Elegant. Long blonde strands strewn about, undone.

Can she read my mind? Does she have any idea how much I adore her? How much I still love her?

She pushes up, and the couch squeaks as she shifts lower. She palms the bulge in my jeans, and I close my eyes.Fuck yes.

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