Page 58 of Lucky Laces
And look, I’m not a girlie with a high sex drive.I don’t need to be fucked six ways to Sunday, don’t need to have multiple orgasms or hit three different positions on my way over the edge.Hell, more often than not in my past experiences, I was happy to content myself with just enjoying the process.
Because it was…nice.
But it wasn’texplosive, not like what I’m feeling now, what I felt yesterday—a gathering deep inside me that threatens to explode, to eviscerate me, to turn me into an empty shell of a woman.Nope.It was nice, sonicethat even one orgasm was a pleasant surprise.
That wasn’t what happened yesterday.
Absolutely not.I imploded like a damned rocket ship on a collision course with an asteroid.
And…I already feel it closing in on me again.
He’s not inside yet—fingersorcock—and there’s no tongue action—at least not between my legs because my breasts are seeingplentyof action from his mouth—but it’s already here.
And there’s no stopping it.
“Hud—”
“Shh,” he murmurs, “just let it come baby.”
It’s going to come.And it’s going to be huge.And it’s kind of terrifying, how big it feels like it will be.
“I—”
He circles my clit.“I’m here.I’ve got you.”A nip to my flesh.“Just let go.”
I remember the world shaking and falling apart and his big body protecting me.I remember the quiet confidences we shared while we were trapped.I remember him putting himself—even injured—between me and Ernest before he knew my neighbor wasn’t a threat.I remember his knuckles brushing along my arm in silent reassurance when I left the fridge open.
Big things.
And small things.
And yet, the important things.
Because I haven’t ever have that with a man.
Truthfully, I hadn’t had that since Grams.
“Sweetheart”—another brush of my clit—“I want to watch you come apart for me.”
The memories slide away.The moment crystalizes back into fingers and tongue, sensation and need and pleasure,oh so muchpleasure.
Then it detonates, exploding through me so intensely that I cry out and arch so far back on the counter I distantly feel my hair brushing along the granite as wave after wave of bliss pulses through me.
I come to with my back flat on the cool counter and Hudson’s big, warm palms still on my thighs, keeping them spread for his gaze.
And he’s watching me, trailing those fingers through me again before lifting his hand, tongue flicking out to taste the evidence of my desire.
I shiver when he sucks the tip of one finger.
His eyes hit mine and before I can react, he’s lifting me off the counter, carrying me through to the other room.
My jeans are still hanging off one foot as he settles me on the couch.
He bends and drags them off then snags a blanket that’s draped over the back of the sofa, tucking it around me.
It’s so unexpectedly sweet that my lungs compress and I find I can’t speak for a few seconds.
I only unstick when he sinks down next to me, his big body pressed to mine, his arms coming around me, his hand smoothing up and down my naked back.
