Page 74 of Every Little Kiss
Ford did his best to drive her positively over the edge. Licking and sucking, even using his teeth until he could feel her tighten, feel her thighs wrap around his shoulders. Then he added a finger to the mix, just one at first, then two when she begged, and then he gave a flick-swirl combo, and she came apart in his hands.
So beautiful,he thought as the moonlight came through the window and reflected off her wet lips and bedroom eyes.
“Lift up,” he coaxed as he gently slid her panties off and onto the floor.
“Is it my turn to do the looking?” she asked, sounding very relaxed, her hands fumbling with his button fly.
She managed to get two undone by the time he’d reached for the condom in his back pocket. Because even though he’d promised to keep his hands off her, he knew the second she’d followed him inside he wouldn’t be able to.
Ford was tearing open the condom when her delicate fingers slid into his pants to wrap around him.
“Are you sure?” she asked, this sexy little purr to her voice, then slowly stroked him from base to tip and back down, tightening as she went.
“I’m sure that if you keep that up, we won’t get to dessert.”
“You already had my cupcakes.” And they were incredible, but her hands were even better. Soft and sure, giving him an eyes-rolling-to-the-back-of-the-head squeeze that nearly caused him to drop the condom.
“We said look not touch, and we said we were looking after each other.” He put her hand on his shoulder, quickly sheathing himself and stepping into her. “So the next time either of us comes, it will be together. Agreed?”
Liv gave him a sexy smile. “If you’re sure.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” he said, and wrapping her legs around him, he entered her in one slow thrust that had both of them moaning in pleasure.
He might have moaned a second time, because she felt that good. That right. So right he knew that once he had her in his bed, he’d never want to leave.
And then in a move that knocked him out at the knees, she leaned forward and whispered, “I’m sure about you, Ford.”
And then she kissed him sweetly, softly, until he felt his entire world spin back to right. Her mouth was like sunshine, and her hands rolled over his body as if molding his image.
Then she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, and he was pretty sure he’d found peace. But then she started moving, up and down, their bodies getting slick in the evening air, and Ford changed his mind.
It wasn’t peace he was feeling—it was coming home. He didn’t want to run, didn’t feel the need to search. He felt as if he’d been lost, searching for his way home, and Liv had rescued him.
“Ford,” she said, and he realized she was watching him, concern in her eyes.
“I’m sure,” he said, moving inside her with strong, healing strokes. Trying to get as deep inside her as he could, wanting to fall right into her and never come up.
Eyes never leaving his, she tightened around him, her body pressed so tightly against his, they were moving as one unit. She hid nothing from him, locked on, opened and honest.
“Ready?” he asked as he slid under her, lifting her off the counter so he could go deeper. Using her arms, she rose and nodded.
She lowered herself back down right as he thrust up. He felt something inside of him start to crumble, felt the first tremor of her release, and when he did it again, he felt her shatter around him, squeezing so erotically tight that it was too much and not enough all at the same time.
All the guilt, the frustration, the past coiled into a tight ball in the center of his chest, and then it too shattered. So hard his knees gave out and they slid to the floor.
Resting his head back against the lower cabinets, Ford fought for breath as Liv curled around him. Heart still hammering, he gathered her close and pressed his face into her hair, breathing her in. And damn if he wasn’t wrong.
She didn’t smell like cupcakes—she smelled like home.
Liv lay there, her arms tight around Ford, listening to his chest rise and fall, and waited. Waited for the reality of what had just happened to slam into her. For the guilt and the second thoughts to kick in and press down.
Only as she lay there, waiting, the only thing she felt was elation. A lightening of her chest, a clarity in her heart, and all kinds of wonderful zings floating through her body.
God, she’d missed this.
The intimacy, the connection, the weightlessness that came from opening up to someone else in such a basic, elemental way.
She’d mistakenly thought that this part of her life was securely wrapped up in Sam, so when he died she’d let it go with him. But she’d been wrong. And tonight she was reclaiming it for herself.
