Page 26 of Little Paper Games
I sucked her lower lip between mine, letting my tongue flick against it teasingly, in a lustful promise of things to come. God, the thought of her cumming beneath me, on top of me, beside me — it about did me in. I wanted to say fuck the timeline and pick out a paper now. That actually got me thinking.
I pulled away slowly, almost chuckling at her whimper of loss.
“We should draw the paper early in the day or the night before,” I whispered, only a breath away from her plump, dark pink lips.
“Why?” she breathed against my lips, leaning forward just a little to press her lips against mine. I pulled away, just a hair’s breadth, though. The anticipation felt glorious.
“To prepare, if need be,” I explained, moving my lips across the corner of her mouth and over her jaw before making my way back to her lips.
“Whatever you think,” she agreed, her eyes closed tightly.
“Good girl.” I couldn’t even stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. But Jesus Christ, her reaction — Her reaction was nothing short of a wet dream come to life. She groaned, her eyelids fluttering, and she seemed to sink back against the pillows, pulling me down with her.
I couldn’t stop myself from taking over the kiss then. Slowly, sensuously claiming her mouth again and again. As the kiss broke, she smiled against my lips.
“Pick a bucket list item. As you said, ladies first.” I could almost feel the way her nose scrunched up.
“Fine, fine,” I grunted as I sat back up and grabbed the pages. I took the scissors I had grabbed on my way in and cut the list of items up into little rectangles. Kenna folded each one up into a tiny little square and tossed them in the appropriate jar. With the leftover paper, I made tags for each jar. One with Kenna and one with Jude scribbled across the front.
“Well, milady, choose your fate,” Kenna dramatically acted, bowing over in a mock curtsey. With an equally dramatic eye roll, I reached into Kenna’s jar and pulled out a tiny scrap of paper.
Be touched to orgasm without toys.
Tonight, was going to be fun.
Chapter 10
KENNA
How was one supposed to prepare for something like this? Was it like preparing for a date? Should I do my hair and makeup and shave my legs and put on the cute little dress in the back of my closet? Should I go straight to the lingerie and skip real clothes all together? Maybe I should say fuck it all and just lay on the bed naked until he gets here.
Well, logically, shaving was a must. I decided to put at least something reasonably attractive on. So, two hours later, after pulling almost every article of clothing I own out of the closet to try to decide, I finally landed on a navy blue, long-sleeved sheath dress that framed my figure well. Paired with cute little flats and gentle curls in my hair, I was sure to look good enough to … well to do all of this with.
Why the hell was I so nervous?! It was just Jude. Why did I feel the need to impress him? Well, probably because I was touch starved as all get out and desperate for an orgasm. Especially if said orgasm did not come from my own hands. I’d never had someone else get me off before. In fact, Craig, the idiot, had been the only guy to even figure out that I wasn’t cumming. He obviously blamed me for being unable to orgasm.
Time was ticking by, and I had barely gotten anything done. Laying the outfit out on my bed, I ran to the bathroom and started up the steamy spray. Under the hot water, I let the nerves run off of me as best I could. I quickly washed my hair and body and set to work, exfoliating, and shaving my legs and underarms. It felt amazing. I’d just soaped up my girly bits when I heard the pounding knock on the door downstairs.
Shit.
I rinsed fast and turned the water off. Stepping out, I barely dried off. Just throwing my hair into a turbaned towel on my head and using another towel to wrap around my body. I made a mad dash down the stairs and threw open the adjoining door.
“What?” I asked, only mildly annoyed. Jude took a moment to look me over, standing there clad in only towels and still mostly dripping wet from my shower.
“I have to admit, that’s not quite what I had in mind for the start of your turn, but I like it,” he commented, his eyes moving and roving over my body.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were coming over at nine!” I whined, aggrieved that he was early.
“Um, Kenna, have you looked at a clock?” he snickered. He looked incredible. Faded jeans, and a white Henley with the sleeves rolled up just right. Simple. Effective.
“Of course, I have, I —” my words died in my throat as he held up his cell phone to show that it was indeed 9:05 p.m. and I was officially out of time.
“Oh God!” I cried out. “I don’t know what happened with the time. Let me go get my hair dried and get dressed and —”
“Kenna, take a breath,” he said calmly, his hands settling on my bare shoulders. “You don’t need to get all dolled up.”
“Oh, coz it doesn’t matter?” I sassed, crossing my arms. “I’m just a piece of ass and it doesn’t matter what the clothing is?” I was feeling heated.
“No, because you’re gorgeous just like this,” he chuckled, walking past me and into my home.
