Page 30 of Vying Girls
‘Figured the chances were pretty low of anyone busting in,’ she says.
I turn back, taking her in properly this time. ‘Let’s hope you’re right. Because I’m not fucking stopping.’
‘Not stopping what?’ she teases.
‘You think I can keep my hands to myself with you in this?’ I huff out a breath.
‘Well, hurry please. I’m freezing.’
For her insolence, I get her legs wrapped around my waist so I can stand up and walk her over to the window. ‘Want a view when I do this.’
‘I’ve got mine,’ she replies breathily, readjusting herself on the deep ledge. ‘Shit, that stone’s cold.’
‘Working as quick as I can.’ Her hair tickles me as I kiss her neck, teasing with the flat of my tongue and sucking lightly.
‘Fuck, I’m all tingly,’ she gasps. ‘Think it’s the fear of someone finding us.’
‘That’s what you’re into, huh?’
‘Apparently.’
I feel it too, every hair standing on end, this spurring need to hurry up and take her. That she’s already undressed makes my life easier. Fuck. Dusty blue. Gonna have to bite my lip to keep from spilling those three little words.
‘Was wondering when the kinks were going to come out.’
‘What can I say? You bring them out in me.’
I capture her lips, tasting the balm she put on them earlier. It’s sweet, oily, gliding effortlessly over mine. Reminds me of her tongue, the warm drag of it over my bare skin, that yearning for it to move lower, where I really need it.
‘You don’t have to warm me up for long,’ she says, stroking up and down my back.
‘Thought you were cold.’
‘Not…down there.’
I grin, getting to my knees to kiss her lower stomach, the lace of the knickers grazing my chin. ‘Blue suits you.’
‘Yeah, kinda like it,’ she whispers.
I look up the length of her body. ‘Pull those straps down.’
She does, the vision so wanton I feel my eyelids flutter.
‘I want you to keep that bra on. Just like that.’
The corner of her mouth ticks up. She parts her legs even more, the invitation in the motion clear.
Standing back up, I grasp her around the waist and drag her against me, letting her feel what I’ve got on under my trousers.
‘Oh, hello.’ She glances down. ‘You don’t usually wear this thing out the house. Hoping to get lucky?’
I smile. ‘I was hopingyou’dlike to get lucky.’
‘Selfless,’ she murmurs, kissing me lightly and slowly.
I love them, these kisses. They’re warm and gentle and so full of meaning. It’s hard not to try and divine it from them. Getting harder, if I’m honest. I’d give Tilda everything, hang the moonfor her, but there’re still times I’m cautious. In bed, not wanting to push her into anything, and with these overwhelming feelings.
I know she likes me. Of course she likes me.
