Page 99 of No Rings Attached
Chapter Twenty-Three
DREW
Ineeded this kiss.
I needed to show Ellie how beautiful she was inside and out.
I needed her pressed to me, skin-to-skin, until we didn’t know where either of us began or ended.
Her moan vibrated into my mouth as I lifted her and laid her gently on the bed. She made a disgruntled sound when I pulled back, but it stopped as my hands traced over her hips. The black lace underwear deserved a moment of appreciation before being stripped off with her pants.
For a second, I stared at her pussy. Glistening. Perfect.
Mine.
She frowned, her voice quiet. “I should have trimmed more. It’s?—”
“Perfect.” My voice came out harsher than I meant, but I wasn’t letting her hide from me or find fault in herself. I meant it, she was perfect for me in every way.
Her eyes, while still on me, took on a slightly far-off look. Knowing Ellie, she was getting all up in her head. I needed to stop her before she started thinking I didn’t want her again.
I slid between her thighs, her heat encompassing me before I’d even touched her. Ellie’s breath caught, and she gave a sharp cry as my tongue swept from her entrance to her clit.
I swirled my tongue around the small bud before sucking it into my mouth. Ellie trembled, thighs clamped around my head. If I had to choose my way to go, suffocating while eating out Ellie was number one on my list.
I pressed my forearm across her belly, just enough to keep her open for me, but not enough to stop her from writhing and crying out in ecstasy. Every broken sound she gave made my cock pulse harder against the wet seam of my pants.
It didn’t matter that I was leaking, straining, aching to be inside her. Ellie’s pleasure came first.
Always.
I rimmed my finger around the opening and eased it slowly inside. Her heat gripped me like a fist. She clenched harder when I added another finger, my strokes slow at first, then deeper to touch that rough patch of skin that had her hips lifting off the mattress.
She was so fucking sexy.
And I wanted so badly to be inside her.
“Please,” she begged.
“Please what, buttercup?”
Her moan dissolved into a cry as I quickened the pace, my tongue and fingers working together until her words were breathy. “That. Faster. Yes!”
“You like that?” I asked, watching the way her body arched, the way she squeezed around me like she’d wring me dry if I let her. All I could imagine was burying myself into her, driving hard until she screamed my name.
Just as she found the rhythm of my hand, I slowed down and pulled them out so I could look at her. Frustration twisted her expression until she groaned and yanked at my hair.
I laughed.
“You’re not funny,” she grumbled, then gasped as I teased her g-spot again, relentless in my pursuit to bring her pleasure. Her head pressed back into the pillow, heels digging into my back, her stomach tight under my arm.
I prayed she’d leave bruises so I’d have the visible reminder of tonight.
“Do you want to come?” I asked then blew lightly on her clit before circling it with my tongue again.
“Yes, yes! I’m so close.” Her voice was a wrecked whisper.
I doubled down, licking and sucking, pumping my tongue into her until her whole body bowed. Her cry rang out and fingers gripped my hair so hard tears stung my eyes. Yet I didn’t stop until the last tremor rolled through her and she collapsed against the sheets.
