Page 150 of You're The One
I kiss down his neck, then over his chest, until I reach the bee tattooed right over his heart. I kiss it, too.
He shudders beneath me, and I look up through my lashes. “I love you, you crazy fool.”
Chuckling, he pulls me back to him. “I love you, baby. Now, let me have some honey.” He winces. “Took it too far, didn’t I?”
I laugh. “Yeah. Let’s never say that again.”
“If you kiss me, I can’t talk,” he reasons.
So, I do.
The kiss breaks me apart and puts me back together all at once. I don’t even realize I’m moving until I’m grinding against him, chasing my release from friction alone. Everything feels sharper, more vivid—like I’m seeing in color after being stuck in grayscale.
He groans and mumbles against my mouth, “Let me take care of you.”
I don’t get a chance to answer before he rolls us, settling between my legs. “Tell me if you need anything. If you want to stop.”
“I won’t,” I whisper. “I need you.”
“I can do that.”
Dom kisses his way down my body, re-learning me with each slow drag of his mouth. He presses a kiss to the hollow of my throat, then another lower, until he reaches my breasts. He sucks one nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing lightly, and I arch with a gasp.
He grips my hip. His fingers dig in just enough to hold me still, to make me feel his full weight. It heightens everything. Makes it impossible to pretend I have any control left.
I probably whimper, maybe beg, but I’m too lost in the feel of him to care.
He doesn’t give in. Just keeps working me higher and higher with no relief.
I finally manage a full breath when he moves, his hand shifting from my hip to knead the flesh of my ass.
I’m so out of my mind that I’m certain the second he even grazes my clit, I’ll come.
He reaches my belly button, dips his tongue in, then pulls back completely to look down at me.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I need to come. And that you’re a terrible tease.”
“I think they call it edging,” he says with a low laugh, planting a quick kiss on my lips before starting all over again.
This time, his fingers trail along my thighs, slipping to the edge of where I ache the most, then pulling back again. Deliberate and infuriating.
I don’t know how long it’s been. Only that my thighs are damp, and he hasn’t even really touched me yet.
Can sex get you high? Because this… this might be the closest I’ve ever come to the feeling. My skin’s buzzing, and I swear I’m floating.
When he takes my mouth with his again, I whine, “Please. What’re you doing to me?”
“Do you feel good,la mia fiamma?”
I shake my head, not in refusal but in pure frustration, and he chuckles in response.
“What are you thinking about?”
“What am I…” I snap, then stop short, because there’s nothing. My mind is completely blank. No thoughts. Just him. And the kaleidoscope of sensation pulsing through my body.
He must see the moment the realization hits, because his mouth curves into that ridiculously sexy, lopsided smile.
