Page 83 of The Last Call Home
I peel her jeans down her legs—slow, teasing, savoring each inch of skin that’s revealed.Her panties are soft pink cotton, damp with desire.I don’t rush past it.I look.I stare.
The center is soaked, clinging to her like a secret she can’t hide.
I drag my nose along the inside of her thigh and kiss just above her knee.Then higher.A little higher.My lips graze her skin, then part to taste.I let my teeth scrape gently, tongue flicking just enough to make her squirm.
She trembles.
Her hips shift forward, restless.
She whispers my name like a confession.“Cassian ...”
I hum, lips curving against her.“Patience.”
I mouth over the wet fabric, tongue pressing flat and slow along the seam of her panties.Her thighs tense against my shoulders, and her fingers dive into my hair, tugging.
“Fuck,” she gasps.“Cassian?—”
I grin into her.“Told you I wasn’t going to rush.”
And I don’t.
I peel her panties down, inch by inch, dragging them along her thighs like I’ve got all the time in the world.I want her to feel how much I worship this.Worship her.
She’s bare now.Glorious.
And I settle between her legs like a man kneeling at the altar, like she’s the only religion I’ve ever trusted to save me.
I let my breath hit her before my mouth does.A whisper of heat.A tease.Then I lick.Soft at first, tasting her.Flicking slow against her clit.Light.Tempting.
She arches.
Her moan breaks open the air between us.Her hips twitch upward, but I press one hand to her stomach, grounding her to the moment.
“Let me do this, Lilah.”
I slide two fingers through her folds, tracing her slick heat, brushing over her entrance, teasing.My mouth covers her again—more insistent this time.My tongue moves in slow, wet strokes, circling and tasting and devouring like I’m starving for her.
She’s drenched.
I press a finger inside.She gasps, tight and warm around me.
“There you are,” I whisper.Another finger joins the first.“So fucking wet.So ready for me.”
I curl my fingers and her whole-body jolts.Her nails bite into my scalp, thighs squeezing my head as her cries break into the silence.She comes, fierce and breathtaking.
But I don’t stop.
I keep licking.Keep fucking her with my mouth, fingers stroking that place inside that makes her tremble all over again.Her voice fractures, calling my name, pleading.
Her hips twist and lift, but I hold her in place.I bring her right to the edge.Once.Twice.
But I don’t let her fall again.
Not yet.
I lift my head just enough to meet her gaze.Her lips are swollen, her eyes wild with need.She’s panting, flushed, wrecked.
“Not done,” I say.
