Page 82 of Still Yours
“I appreciate the—oh God. Ohfuck.”
Stone stops any further conversation by licking my slit from top to bottom, then spreading me open and feasting with purpose.
If it weren’t for his hands holding me up, I’d buckle. No, I’d lose my bones and turn into a puddle before him, one his tongue would lap up.
I move in circles against his expert mouth, arching when he sucks on my clit and slips his fingers in, curving them until they grind against my G-spot and an explosion builds.
Stone holds me during one of the strongest orgasms of my life, so stimulating and effortless that tears come into my eyes.
He rises as I recover, his hands gliding up over my body as he does so and coming to a stop against my neck. He uses both thumbs to tilt my chin up.
I’m greeted with a majestic sight, moonlight cruelly assisting in highlighting Stone’s angular beauty. His dimples flash as black crescents in his face.
“Hi, beautiful,” he murmurs.
Stone greets me so sweetly, holds me so tenderly, that if tears weren’t already pooling, they’d flood my eyes.
When they puddle against his hands, his brows draw down in concern. “Noa…”
Stone loses his smile.
This isn’t what I intended. I meant this time to be for Stone, to take his mind off sad things and maybe mine, too. Neither of us needs more cracks in our hearts, more agonized confessions, and it’s with that in mind that I palm his chest and push him back onto the bed.
“Hey now,” he says with surprise, but splays his arms out in welcome as I crawl on top of him until my lips meet his.
Stone kisses me with passion, his hands tangling in my hair. I lose myself in the swollen suction, the rasp of his scruff on my sensitive skin, the feel of his tongue in my mouth.
Breath hitching, Stone pulls back and asks, “Do you have a condom in here?”
I freeze. “Um. No. I don’t normally have men over and never planned for this …”
Stone chuckles. “Don’t finish that sentence. I like how it started. I can go downstairs and get one from my bag.”
It would be the smart thing to do, but that would require him to get up and put space between us. Distance neither of us needs because it would leave room for thought and consequences.
“No.”
“No?” Stone echoes.
“I’m—I have an IUD. And no STDs.”
Stone’s amusement jostles my body. “I never assumed you had some. I don’t have any, either. I have regular?—”
“Nope.” I clap a hand over his mouth, reluctant to hear about his regular checkups because of his constant exploits. “Don’t finish that sentence. I like how it started.”
I feel his grin on my palm. He playfully licks it, and I squeal, pulling my hand back.
As soon as his full face is back in my vision, I soften. He’s so incredibly handsome, so soft and sweet when he wants to be and surprisingly sensitive despite the mask he puts on for the world.
Without breaking eye contact, I line him up with my entrance, then slide onto him excruciatingly slow. I want to watch every second of taking him and see him transform into a man who fits me. Who’s meant for me.
I lower to my elbows on either side of his shoulders. I start moving, our faces close together. He keeps our eyes locked, his hands cupping my ass, but not taking control. Stone undulates underneath me, meeting my pleasure but not overtaking it with his own. Our sex is gentle, sweet, and astonishingly heart-wrenching as we watch each other come apart.
The tears aren’t dry on my cheeks before more appear, but these aren’t from sadness.
They’re from the pure pleasure of rediscovering what it’s like to make love to the man you were in love with.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
