Page 68 of The Plus One
He felt clumsy. Disoriented. It’d been so long since he’d been this close to someone else, let them in. He felt his body tense as he scrambled between mindless pleasure and overthinking every moment.
Indira must have noticed the shift, and she pulled back slightly. She continued to touch him—fingers greedy up his thighs, the vault of his ribs, the nape of his neck—as she looked at his face, her big, whiskey eyes making him drunk with want.
“Do you want to take control?” she said, her voice filled with husky promise.
And Jude realized that’s exactly what he wanted. He wanted to direct this overwhelming pleasure building inside him. He wanted Indira to drown in it too. He wanted to feel it all without fear he would disappear in it. Indira—gorgeous, intuitive, wonderful Indira—knew that offering to let him lead was exactly what he needed.
Jude nodded, and Indira’s smile was sinfully satisfied as he flipped their position, laying her beneath him.
While every pulse point in his body thrummed withwant want want, urging him to move faster, he paused, staring at her in awe.
Jude had thought he’d lost his faith watching the horrors humans could inflict upon each other. But, hovering over Indira’s long, naked body, he felt something almost spiritual in its intensity. He needed her. It was a desperate and basic type of need to be close to her. His Indira. His touchstone. His person.
Indira stayed still on her back, her tangle of curls like a violent, beautiful ocean around her head, her sharp inhales the only movement as she watched him. Waited for him.
He reached out, slowly dragging his fingers across her mouth in a featherlight touch that moved to her jaw, then down her throat as she swallowed. He felt her pulse beneath his fingers and, this time, he was certain its jagged rhythm matched his own.
Jude’s hand moved along her body, rougher now as his palmgrazed her nipple and she arched in response. He lingered there, toying with the hardened points, testing the sensitivity of the luscious skin on the underside of her breasts.
His fingers continued down, brushing over the soft triangle of hair before feeling the slickness between her thighs. A groan tore from his throat.
“Let me kiss you here?” he said between clenched teeth, gently pushing her knees further apart, looking at the glistening wetness between her legs. He licked his lips.
“Yes,” she said, without hesitation, placing her hand over his where he gripped her thigh. “God yes.”
An unmatched type of joy swirled in his chest at the want in her voice.
Jude whispered her name like a benediction as he bent his head to worship between her thighs.
He started slowly, reverently licking her plump pink lips, blowing lightly on her wet flesh, and he memorized every moan Indira made, every press of her hips closer to his mouth, the way her fingers threaded through his hair and pulled him closer still.
“I want to taste you forever,” he growled against the softness of her inner thigh before softly biting the spot. Indira’s entire body bucked beneath him as she let out a cry.
When her legs were trembling and her breaths were sharp pants, Jude focused in on her clit, licking in a tight circle, then sucking until her back bowed off the bed and she fisted the sheets in one hand, pulling on his hair with the other.
He looked up at her over the planes of her body, and nothing,nothingin the world, was more earth-shattering than seeing Indira Papadakis fall apart on the tip of his tongue.
He extended the pleasure as long as he could, reading her body, doing what she needed, wanting her jolts and tremors to never end.
Eventually, when she unfisted his hair and collapsed into a boneless heap on the pillows, he removed his mouth from her, kissing lightly along her hips, dragging his mouth up her belly, grabbing thathand that fisted his hair so fucking good and licking and sucking on her fingers, thanking her for letting him touch her.
“I want more,” Indira whispered, softly scratching her nails on his scalp, dragging her palms to cup his face. “Can we do more?”
“Holy fuck yes please,” Jude rushed out, a beat of silence following his less-than-smooth words. And then they both started to giggle, silently at first, until they were gasping with it, pressing their sweaty foreheads together as they laughed.
Indira snaked her hands down his body, ending the laughter with kisses. She wrapped her fingers around his length, and he was heavy and hot in her palm. It wasn’t long before he was rocking into her grip, threads of pleasure weaving through his body.
“Now, Jude,” she said, the neediness in her voice almost making him spill then and there as she lined him up with her opening. He grabbed her wrist, pulling it up and pressing it against the mattress before twining his fingers through hers, holding her hand.
He hovered over her, feeling vulnerable. Exposed. Excited.
But the way Indira looked at him—her heart in her eyes and trust on her lips—he couldn’t wait a second longer. He bent his head and kissed her.
Jude pushed into her, his panting breaths mingling with Indira’s raspy groans, sliding forward, chest rubbing against hers, their temples pressing together as he seated himself fully in her. They both took a moment to feel their bodies together.
It was raw and real and the most alive he’d felt in a long time. Like her body was made to hold him.
“You feel,” he grunted out, heart threatening to punch through his chest, “so fucking perfect.”
