Page 103 of Perfect Pairing
He only stared at me, studying me. Revered me like I was a deity and he was simply worshiping at my altar.
Then, at last, he dove into his feast.
I expected him to take his time after all his teasing and pretty words, but Ezra surprised me by eating me with gusto, by lapping at my pussy like it was ice cream melting on a hot day. By unceremoniously shoving two fingers in me, his chuckle vibrating against my swollen, sensitive flesh in the most delicious way when I let out a yelp of surprise.
He drove me higher and higher, his fingers pumping in and out, curling against that innermost spot as his tongue flicked relentlessly against my clit.
And when he sealed his lips around that bundle of nerves and sucked, then added a third finger—I blew apart with a scream, my entire body quaking endlessly as we rode it out together.
At last, I stitched myself back together and opened my eyes, finding Ezra hovering over me, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“You are so fucking sexy when you come.”
“You should make me do it again.”
Ezra barked out a laugh and sat back on his heels, his hands on my inner thighs, absently smoothing his palms against my skin, deliciously abraded by his stubble. I sat up to watch him, my eyes straying right to his cock, thick, impossibly hard, the tip leaking precum. It seemed to pulse under my gaze, and I reached for him. He hissed sharply through his teeth as I closed my fist around him, pumping him slowly, mesmerized by his silken feel over the impossibly hard flesh beneath.
“You gonna take a taste?” he asked.
“I actually have a confession to make,” I said as I stroked him.
“What’s that?”
“I’ve never actually given head.”
“Brie,” he groaned. “You’re killing me.”
I shrugged and giggled. “I just want all our cards on the table here.” I paused, and my voice had dropped to barely above a whisper when I spoke again. “What if I’m bad at it?”
The idea thrilled me, of having his cock in my mouth, of letting him pump into my throat and spill down it. But it worried me too. What if I hurt him? What if I sucked at sucking?
Gripping my waist, he lifted me and settled me so I straddled his lap. Cupping my face in his hands, he forced me to look at him as he said, “There isnothingyou could do to me that Iwon’t like. I could get off watching you run around your kitchen, baking all your delectable treats. Tell me you understand that.”
“Really?” I asked as I continued to explore his flesh.
“Really,” he assured me, then gritted out, “You keep doing that, and I’m going to come before I ever get inside you.”
I didn’t let go but brushed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “And we can’t have that.”
Ezra shifted me slightly so his broad head slipped through lips, my orgasm coating him, and he reached between us to spread it down his length.
“I haven’t been with…” I croaked out, my words dying in my mouth, unsure what prompted the outburst. I cleared my throat noisily before I tried again. “I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
I expected him to, at the very least, show some level of shock or surprise. Instead, his arms banded tighter around me, and with one of his lopsided grins, he said, “You been saving yourself for me, honey?”
“So what if I was?” I shot back, the words braver than I felt with heat rising to my face.
“Lucky for you,” Ezra said, swiping his thumb along my cheekbone, “I haven’t been with anyone since you either.”
“There’s just one problem.”
Ezra stilled, eyes wide with panic. “Yeah?”
“I’m not currently on birth control, so we’re going to have to use a condom.”
“Why?” he blurted then slapped a hand over his mouth, clearly not having meant to ask. If there was one thing I knew about Ezra, it was that he believed women’s bodies were theirs to dowith as they wished. It was my decision not to be on birth control, and I knew he wasn’t questioning that.
“I never went back on it after the miscarriage, knowing I wouldn’t be having sex with anyone again for a good, long while. I was terrified of intimacy, of giving anyone that kind of access to me again.
