Page 36 of The Mountain
Well. He’s learning now.
“Harder,” I tell him, my voice sounding thready with need. “You can pull at the nipples, roll them or squeeze them.” I lift my freehand to my breast to demonstrate. “Like this, see…ungh… yes… hmm… just like that.”
He rolls my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, carefully at first, then harder, almost to the point of pain before easing up. He moves between pulling and flicking, until heat is flushing across my chest, burning like electricity under my skin, like there’s a live wire between my nipples and my clit.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, because I can feel it building now, a spiraling wave moving upward and upward. “Mhh, yes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“Fuck,” he rasps, and when I peer at him through my lashes, his cheeks are flushed, lips parted, pupils blown and completely focused on my breasts. “This is the hottest fucking thing.”
As if in a trance, he lowers his head to my breasts, tongue darting out to flick one nipple, then the other, his breath hot against my cooling skin.
“Suck on them,” I whisper. “Please, Eddie.”
He groans in reply, an aching sort of sound that rushes straight to my core. He lifts one breast to his mouth, taking the nipple in, flicking it with his tongue, rolling it carefully with his teeth. And then he’s sucking, his eyes lifting up to meet mine, full of silent question.
I let out a cry in response, a mewling wordless sound as I arch toward his mouth, toward that blissful pull. The showerhead is directly against my core now, the jets pummeling my aching clit, my legs shaking as I tilt my hips upward, desperate for more.
“Please, please, please,” I chant, but I’m not sure what I’m asking for now.
His hand finds my other breast, mouth and fingers working my nipples in tandem, his eyes fixed on my face in rapt fascination.
“Eddie,” I pant, and I’m moving the showerhead now, trying to get more pressure against my clit. “Please.”
His free hand dips between us, trembling fingers slipping between my parted lips. He moans when he finds my clit, the sound vibrating through me as he sucks my nipple deeper, and then he’s pinching that bud of nerves, rolling it between thumb and forefinger.
I scream, a throaty, keening wail, my free hand flying up to grasp his water-soaked hair, pulling him to me as he sends me over the edge, as if holding on to him will keep me from falling over the other side.
The showerhead falls from my hand with a clatter, water flailing erratically from the base of the tub. Eddie releases my breast with a pop, his fingers lingering on my soaked core before he gives a choked sigh and bends to pick up the showerhead, settling it back in its place overhead.
He pulls me against him, dragging me under the water with him, his body shivering against my own beneath the heated spray.
“Lily,” he murmurs, lifting my chin, bringing my mouth to his. His lips are swollen, soft, and wet. “Lily.” He says my name like a prayer, breathing it against my parted lips. “That was… That was…” He lets out a stuttering breath, then pulls me tight to his chest, cradling me to him, his whole body trembling despite the warmth.
I hold tight to him, tight enough that I’m not sure if it’s my heart or his heart I’m feeling pounding against my chest. Tight enough that I think I might be trembling too.
Chapter 13
Lily
“I have to say, I do love it when I’m right.”
My head snaps up in surprise at the sound of Stephanie Jealouse’s voice in the locker room, and I quickly finish pulling on my sweater. On the bench beside me, Pete gives a startled grunt, the ski boot he’d been putting on slipping from his gnarled hands.
Stephanie leans against my locker, a clipboard clutched to her chest, a smug smile curving her lips. She taps the clipboard, pointing to a list of names too small for me to make out. “I told Chris we needed more women teaching private lessons. He didn’t believe me. And then, guess what? That student you had yesterday? She booked you out for the next week. Six days. All prepaid and nonrefundable.”
Beside me, Pete chuckles, bending to pick up his fallen boot. “So, is this why Chris had his panties in a twist the other day? You two got into another one of your fights?”
“It’s not a fight,” Stephanie says primly, lifting her chin. “It’s called responsible management.”
“Uh-huh. If you say so,” Pete mutters under his breath, quiet enough that I’m not sure if Stephanie hears.
“Anyway, I just wanted to check in, make sure you’re doing okay,” Stephanie continues, her expression growing more serious.
“I’m fine,” I tell her, straightening my shoulders. “Totally recovered.”
She arches one sculpted brow, silently studying me for a long moment, then nods. “Okay. Well, if anything changes, or if you need to talk about anything, you just let me know.”
Warmth blooms in my chest at her words, at the genuine concern shining in her eyes. It’s a look that tells me if I needed time off, she’d make sure I got it, private lesson bookings and busy season be damned.
