Page 98 of Practice Makes Perfect
This is Em.
This is something real.
And I’m going to make damn sure she never forgets it.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties, looking up at her one more time. “Can I taste you?”
Her breath hitches, and she nods so fast it’d be comical if I wasn’t so completely wrapped up in how beautiful she looks—chest flushed, hair splayed across the pillows, eyes dark with desire.
“Yes,” she manages, voice trembling slightly. “Please.”
I drag her panties down her legs at an excruciatingly slow pace, savoring every inch of skin revealed. When I reach her ankles, I pull them off completely and toss them aside, then gently spread her thighs.
“I’m going to take my time with you,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. “Make you feel so good you forget your own name.”
Her laugh is breathless, nervous. “That’s a pretty ambitious goal.”
“I’m a pretty ambitious guy,” I murmur against her skin.
I kiss my way up her thigh, deliberately avoiding where she wants me most. Her hips shift restlessly, seeking contact, but I place a firm hand on her stomach to hold her in place.
“Patience,” I whisper, grinning when she huffs in frustration.
“You’re torturing me,” she complains, but there’s no bite to it.
“Torture implies you’re not enjoying yourself.” I trace a path with my tongue along the crease where her thigh meets her center. “Is that true?”
She shivers. “You know I am.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
A smile plays at her lips. “I’m enjoying myself.”
“Good.” I blow gently against her heated flesh, watching goosebumps rise on her skin. “Because I’m about to enjoy myself too.”
I dip my head and finally taste her, one long, slow lick that makes her gasp and arch off the bed. The flavor of her hits my tongue and I groan against her. Her fingers thread through my hair, holding on like she needs an anchor.
I take my time exploring her with my tongue, learning what makes her breath catch, what makes her thighs tremble. When I circle her clit, her grip on my hair tightens almost painfully, and I can’t help but smile against her.
“Right there,” she breathes. “God, Linc, that feels?—”
I suck gently on the sensitive bud, and whatever she was about to say dissolves into a moan. Encouraged by her response, I slip one finger inside her, curling it forward to find that spot that’ll drive her wild.
“Oh!” Her back arches off the bed.
I establish a rhythm, working her with my tongue and fingers until she’s writhing beneath me, her control slipping with every passing second. It’s intoxicating to know that I’m the one making her feel this way.
“Linc,” she gasps, her thighs tensing around my head. “I’m close.”
I immediately slow down, easing back to teasing, feather-light touches that make her whimper in frustration, denying her the release she was so close to achieving.
“No, don’t stop,” she pleads, trying to guide my head back. “Please.”
“Please what?” I ask innocently, placing a kiss on her inner thigh.
She makes a sound that’s half laugh, half groan. “You’re evil.”
“Not evil,” I correct, circling her entrance with my finger. “Just thorough.”
