Page 67 of Divorced from Number Thirty-Eight
As though I’m not trembling from needing more of him.
More of his fingers, his tongue, his teeth.
But he just continues the slow, inexorable tease.
“Gray?” I ask, running my fingers through his hair.
Another flick of his tongue, one that has my grip tightening on those silken strands.
“Yeah, Red?”
I open my mouth, ready to demand we both strip naked so he can be inside me, but even as the words bubble up, he smiles wickedly…
And seals his mouth over my nipple.
Twenty-Three
Gray
Her hand tightens almost painfully in my hair, but I don’t stop.
Or maybe it’s I can’t stop.
Not now that I’ve finally allowed myself to taste her this way.
She moans at the first touch of my mouth to her nipple, whatever she’d been about to say cut off in that rush of beautiful sound.
Later, I’ll ask her what had her cheeks going even more pink than normal, had shy mixing with sin, almost tempting me back to her mouth.
Almost because the gorgeous curves of her breasts need to be worshipped.
I roll my tongue, feel her grip tighten further, her body arching against mine. Since her ass is on the counter, I snag one of her legs, wrapping it around my waist, needing to rock against her. The angle’s not easy, what with me having to bend to taste her, but it’s still fucking perfect.
Two layers of thin material between us.
My body cushioned by the soft pillow of her thighs.
And her pelvis mirroring my movements, her hand holding fast, her silken flesh on my tongue.
I suck and kiss, nip and draw, finding what she likes, what has my name filling the air.
“Fuck, but I really love the sound of my name on your lips, Red,” I murmur as I kiss my way over to her other breast, as I treat that one to the same focused attention. But this side is even more sensitive, her cries of pleasure louder.
Then louder still as I snake my hand down her body, slipping it between us.
A shove has it beneath the stretchy waistband of her pajamas.
“G-Gray!” she gasps as I cup her over her panties.
“Soaked,” I rasp. “I fucking knew you’d be.”
Her eyes are glazed, cheeks pink…just like those nipples I’ve been sucking on. But the slick evidence of her desire on my fingertips is the hottest thing I’ve ever felt.
At least until I’m nudging the material of her underwear to the side and?—
“Fuck,” I groan.
“Gray,” she moans, hips bucking, head falling back, hand slipping from my hair, palm dropping to the counter.
