Page 95 of Sweet Thing

I massaged her thighs, rubbing my thumbs close to the heart of her, but never touching. More squirming, now with added moaning.

“Larrrrs!”

“You heard me in the shower, baby, now it’s my turn to hear you.”

That connection flipped the switch. Feeding her hand between her legs, she started to stroke. My mouth watered, as I watched those fingers she’d used earlier to bring joy to so many play her own body like a musical instrument. A few seconds in, I couldn’t stand not tasting her any longer.

Pushing her hand aside, I took over with my tongue. Instantly, she bucked against my mouth, forcing me to spear inside her. My hands got in on the act. My fingers slicked through her folds as the flat of my tongue rubbed her clit.

Her writhing became more fevered, so much so I had to use one hand to hold her still while I licked and sucked and fucked her with my tongue. One final suckle on that slick bundle of nerves, and she came against my mouth, my name on her lips.

Giving her a moment to recover, I reached over for the condom and rolled it on. She sat up, leaning on her elbows, her cheeks flushed, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

“You ready for me?”

With a sly smile, she responded, “You ready for me?” and then she turned over on her hands and knees.

Jesus.

That perfect ass, her glistening pussy, my name on her jersey. I must have been good in a previous life because I certainly wasn’t good in this one. I pushed that thinking away. Gripping her hip, I sank into the hot, wet clasp of her. Made my claim. This woman had me under her spell, and with that encouragement to take her from behind, she knew what she was doing.

Thank Christ one of us does.

I withdrew a torturous inch, stroked a tantalizing inch more, then found a rhythm that drew me deeper each time. Both hands on her hips now as she stretched her arms forward and flattened her body to heighten the angle, taking her pleasure and spurring mine to unrecognizable heights.

Reaching around, I rubbed between her thighs. She moaned, met my thrust until I felt her pussy tighten, and she gasped her release. Instantly, mine rocketed through me and blanked what was left of my brain.

Adeline

A few days after Halloween,I walked in on a scene that would have had stylist Tara in a tizzy: Lars was tying Mabel’s hair in cute little bursts with rainbow clips.

He looked up at me with a grin. “I can’t wait until it’s long enough to French braid.”

“French braid? Who is this person?”

“You look so cute, Mabel.” He leaned over to nuzzle his nose against his daughter’s before picking up his phone and tapping the screen. “Take a look at this video,” he said to me. “Don’t you think this would look perfect on her?”

It was an adorable video of a dad braiding his daughter’s hair. But a kid had to have hair to braid.

“When it grows in.”

“When do you think that’ll be?” He sounded concerned. “I’ve checked and there’s this Japanese baby that looks like a mini-Yeti and he’s only five months old. I feel like Mabel should have more hair by now. When did Tilly start getting longer hair?”

“Six months? But we all have Kershaw hair genes. Dark and thick and wavy.” I didn’t know much about Vicki’s hair quality, but Lars had great hair. “Any baldness in your family?”

Horror crossed his brow. “No! Don’t you dare jinx it.”

I ran a hand through his thick, lustrous locks, and because I couldn’t resist, I parted it at the back. “Hmm, looking a bit bare here. Sure there’s no baldness in the Nyquist family tree?”

“There is not!” I loved teasing him. Who would have thought Lars Nyquist would have this lighter side to him?

“Oh, and I bought this outfit for her today.” He pulled a shopping bag from the side of the sofa, a bright blue onesie that said, “I Try to be Good, But I Take After my Daddy.” “Cute, right?”

“You’re doing things to my ovaries, Nyquist.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of things?”

I put my hand on his chest. “Melting, exploding, the usual.”

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