Page 65 of The Plus One
Except her giant fucking bee costume was presenting many,manyroadblocks.
“Take this off,” Jude growled, fumbling with the zipper.
Indira laughed, deep and husky, rewiring circuits of Jude’s brain to erupt in pleasure at the sound. She found the zipper and ripped it down, squirming out of the enormous thing with record speed.
She was down to just a bra and her leggings, and Jude, who was already aching, went painfully hard at the sight.
His hands and eyes scoured over every inch of her as she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, tearing it off her arms and flinging it to a far corner of the room. Jude felt primitively satisfied at how her desperation seemed to match his.
His fingertips grazed over her breasts, learning the shape, the softness, the decadence of her hard nipples under the pad of his thumb.
Indira tilted her head back and moaned as his touch skated over her, pebbling her skin. Making her press closer.
“I need more,” she said roughly, threading her hands in his hairand pressing hard kisses against his mouth. Jude kissed back, giving her everything. His fingertips trailed down her ribs, the muscles of her back, the divot of her spine, to rest at her waistband.
“Is this okay?” he asked, tugging lightly at the elastic.
“Fuck. Yes,” Indira said against his lips, her hips grinding mindlessly against his lap.
He pulled the fabric down around her thighs, revealing her sweet, wet cunt.
“Show me,” he said, gripping her wrist and leading her hand to her clit. “Show me what you like.”
Indira glanced at him, eyelids heavy with desire, smile dripping with satisfaction. And she did as he asked, showing him the rhythm and speed that brought her pleasure, the broad circles punctuated by quick flicks. The way she dipped her fingers into her wetness and dragged it along her slit. And Jude, God bless him, was a quick learner.
He removed her hand, bringing her wet fingers to his mouth and sucking deeply, lapping her taste off them, while his other hand repeated her instructions.
Indira pulled her fingers from his mouth, scraping her nails against his scalp as she ground against him.
“Inside me,” she panted. “Please.”
Jude obliged. Who was he to ignore such excellent manners?
He slipped two fingers inside her, moving and pressing until he found a spot that made her groan and her hips buck.
“Yeah?” Jude grunted out, continuing the movement.
“Yes. Yes. God, yes,” Indira babbled, hips pumping to match his fingers and brush her clit against the heel of his hand.
Indira became almost frantic in her noises and movements, and Jude was lost in the sounds of her pleasure. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, unable to decide where to look. Every millimeter of her was the most beautiful fucking thing he’d ever seen. Indira tugged on his hair again, bringing his head closer to her chest, and Jude gleefully took the hint. He pulled one of her nipples in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it before sucking deep, biting gently.
Indira gasped—the noise sharp and clear and the most erotic thing Jude had ever heard—before her body went stiff, then shook with the force of her climax. Jude continued what he was doing, giving her everything he could until she finally slumped against him in a boneless heap.
Jude withdrew his fingers, reveling in the feel of her hot and labored breaths against his neck. He readjusted her leggings, then smoothed a hand over her curly hair, tucking her head securely under his chin, arms wrapping around her.
There weren’t really words to describe what it felt like to hold Indira Papadakis.
Over the past month, Jude had spent more hours than he cared to admit picturing Indira’s body, imagining its feel, its textures. He was a fool for thinking he could ever imagine anything close to this.
He now knew what her heartbeat felt like against his own chest, the luxurious feel of her hair sliding between his fingers, the decadent bite of her nails into his skin. He’d learned what she tasted like and he wanted to repeat the lesson over and over again.
Indira stirred, pulling her head back to give him a smile that felt like sunshine being injected directly into his veins. She leaned in and kissed him, achingly tender and soft. Jude kissed back, lacking technique or finesse, and making her smile again against his lips all the same.
Indira’s hands started roaming, caressing down his neck, his chest. He was still hard between her thighs, and it didn’t take long for her wandering fingers to start stroking him through his jeans.
“It feels like I’ve been wanting this forever,” she whispered into his ear before giving the lobe a soft bite. She returned to kissing and rubbing him, filling Jude with endless sensations of want and desire.
But he was simultaneously flooded with something tinged in bitterness. Anger at all the time that had been stolen from him. That he hadn’t seen what was right in front of him when he’d still been whole. He was drowning in loss for the memories they could never make.
