Page 133 of Facing Off
Such a bossy order, but it hits an invisible button inside me I didn’t know existed. I’m quivering even as I attempt to argue. “Fine, but only if you take off your shirt,” I blurt out as a half-hatched reply.
He grins.
In a single move, using only one hand, his shirt is slipped over his head and tossed to the side. My heart slams against my chest, and my mouth parts open. Hisbody is spectacular, no matter how many times I’ve seen it. I’ll never get used to it, will I?
His fingers toy with the drawstring of my pants and my hips raise, encouraging more. That makes him sigh happily as if he’s been waiting a very long time for this.
Slowly, Adrian pulls on the bow until it comes undone. He takes hold of my pants at the waistband and starts sliding them down.
“You are so beautiful, Sonya.” His voice is thick. And then muffled as incoherent praises and kisses rain down on every inch of skin that’s been revealed.
My head goes back. Hits the cushion.
He pulls my pants off completely. Spreads me open.
“Sonya.”
My head lifts again. My name. It was tortured out of him. That’s because he’s?—
Staring at where I’ve soaked through silk. The heat in his gazemeltsstraight through me. “Baby, how long have you been this wet for me?”
My cheeks blast with heat.
“I’m clearly losing it,” I accuse. “It’s your fault.”
“Yeah? Join the club, baby.” The back of his knuckles drags a line through my wetness, and stops short of my clit. It won’t go any higher, no matter how my hips buck.
He’s holding back.
It’s then I remember our rules. I need to talk.
“I, Sonya, am capable, so capable and strong and resilient. Brave, too. I’ve survived and have turned into this person—who is great and capable. Did I say capable already? I mean, adaptable and wonderful and I should be proud of myself—fuck, actually Iamproud of myself?—”
I’m blabbering.
But he gets the message.
Pushing the silk to one side, I don’t have time to feelthe rush of cold air against my core, because his mouth lights it on fire, diving in tongue first.
My back arches and head knocks into another pillow. There’s no warning. No hesitation.
Adrian devours.
I’ve never been parted like this or licked or sucked. My spine curves as groans of pleasure spill from his mouth, vibrating against my clit. I’m—rushing straight into an orgasm? It makes no sense. When I’m with someone else, I need time. Lots of time. Mental gymnastics. Toys. Last-ditch efforts where I close my eyes, and pretend I’m reading one of my kinky books, imagining a scene from there.
I don’t do this.
I don’t spiral into completion. But maybe this whole night, and every moment leading up to it, has been a stretched-out dance of sensual foreplay between us.
It’s like I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.
The first orgasm hits me, shaking my entire body with a kind of shocked release that robs me of all rational thought.
Without stopping, Adrian sinks a finger inside, down to the knuckle, extending it longer by pumping in and out, circling my clit harder with his tongue.
My fingers slide into his hair. “Fuck—Adrian. Can’t. I can’t take more.”
Such strong words, except I’m grinding up against him, keening.
