Page 37 of Absinthe Dreams
"Hey, baby," I murmur, setting my coffee on a side table and holding out a hand toward her.
She comes straight to my side before crawling onto my lap. I plant my hands on her hips, pulling her close. And then groan softly when I realize she isn't wearing panties beneath my shirt.
My hand glides across her round ass, squeezing gently.
"You're up way too early," she complains, faceplanting into my chest.
"You didn't have to get up." I brush hair away from her face, planting my lips against her temple, just reveling in the weight of her on my lap. In the feel of her in my arms. She's fucking adorable as she burrows against me like I'm her living blanket. "You could have kept sleeping."
"Couldn't," she grumbles, nuzzling her face against my throat. "You weren't in bed."
My heart rolls over in my chest at her response.
"Jesus," I mumble, tipping her head back to kiss her long and deep.
Within seconds, she's moaning against my lips and squirming.
"None of that," I growl, breaking the kiss before it can get out of control.
"What?" She blinks wide eyes at me, fully awake now. "Why not?"
"You need to rest." I slip my hand between her legs, cupping her pussy to show her what I mean. It's obviously the wrong fucking thing to do because she moans again, her thighs parting like she's giving me permission. And even though I told myself I was keeping my hands to my damn self today…I don't.
My thumb finds her clit, grinding in slow circles.
Her head falls back, her moan loud enough to carry to the neighbors. Not that I give a fuck. The fence is high enough to give us privacy. No one can see her getting off on my fingers.
"Does that feel good, princess?"
"Yes," she moans.
I tweak her nipple through her shirt, and her hips jerk in response. I'm so caught up in watching the way pleasure dances across her face that I don't even notice where her hands are until one bumps against mine.
Two seconds later, she's got my dick out, stroking from root to tip.
"Chloe," I growl, arching into her perfect hand even though I shouldn't. "You need to rest."
"No. I need this," she retorts, balancing on my thighs as she slips my aching cock between her legs. She whimpers as she slides down, taking me all the way to the hilt.
And Christ, she feels so fucking good.
I grit my teeth, my fingers digging into her hips. I'm already on the verge of losing it, of slamming into her until she's fallingapart all around me again. Will it ever stop feeling like this—so goddamn good, so fucking perfect? Somehow, I doubt it.
That isn't a complaint. It's a motherfucking prayer of gratitude.
I force myself to take it slow, lifting her off before dropping her one excruciatingly perfect inch at a time, determined not to hurt her when I've already fucked her raw.
"More," she begs, trying to find the rhythm she wants. "Faster."
"No, just like this, princess." I still her with my hands on her hips, keeping her right where I want her. She scowls at me, but as soon as I lower her an inch, the scowl fades to bliss.
I fuck her nice and slow, my eyes locked on her face the entire time. I think I could watch her just like this for a lifetime and never grow tired of it. There's something new to discover every time I'm inside her—like the exact shade of emerald-green her eyes turn when she wants to come. Or the way she bites her bottom lip right before she moans my name. Or the way she forces herself to keep her eyes open, as if she's just as desperate to see me in these moments.
She's beautiful, my entire fucking world.
"Christ, Chloe," I groan, my forehead tipped against hers. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"
"I do," she whimpers.
