Page 84 of Light Up The Night
Within seconds, she's coming. "OH! RILEY! OHMYGOD!" She slaps her hands into the bed and grips the sheet as she fucks my mouth.
I keep her coming, sliding my finger inside her and hunting for her G-spot—there it is; she screams, unabashed and uncontrolled, and the most arousing, erotic, stunning, breathtaking vision I've ever beheld.
She spasms, contorts, and writhes. Slowly, she subsides from the peak.
Her eyes snap open. "Now, Riley Crowe. The truth of your thoughts."
"When I said I wanted you," I growl, "I meant…" I slide up her body and lean over her. "I want to do a lot of very, very,verysinful things to this…" I kiss the corner of her mouth, “maddeningly…” and then her breast, “perfectly…” I curl my finger inside her and then find her clit, getting her spasming and jerking all over again, “fucking gorgeous body of yours."
"I cannot believe that anything so beautiful as sharing this with you can be sinful," she whispers.
"Not gonna argue with that. I don't think so, that's for fucking sure." I kiss her lips and make her quake with my finger. "What shocking things are you thinking?"
Arched and orgasming, she doesn't answer right away. When I let her back down, shaking and panting and sheened with sweat, she grabs my wrist and her eyes meet mine. "How my disappointment that I did not get to touch you last night was not entirely a…um…selfless feeling." She guides my hand away from her pussy. "No more, please. For…for now."
"Cadence," I start.
She touches my lips. "I want to touch you because of my own selfish desire to…" she shuts her eyes. "To know how it feels. How it…what a man's flesh is like." Her eyes fly open and find mine. “I wish most strongly to know how it feels to touchyou.To know how it feels to be the onegivingpleasure, not just receiving.”
I cup her cheek. Kiss her softly. "I can give you that, Cadence. But only if you want it foryou. I don't want you worryin' about me."
"But that is…" She frowns, shaking her head. "That is not correct. I do not believe any relationship should be one-sided.Youworry aboutme.Youare concerned withmycomfort and safety. You have taken the greatest care to see that I am willing, consenting, and in control as I explore my sexuality with you." Her eyes are wet, shimmering. "That is a gift, Riley. A very precious one. My desire to touch you is…complex, because I want to for the reasons I have previously stated, but also because I wish to give you pleasure, as you have given it to me. I do not feel obligated. I know you would not put that burden on me."
"Never."
"Then…" she swallows hard. "Then may I…" She pushes her palm into my chest, encouraging me to lie back.
I do so, gingerly, slowly, and uncertainly. Her fingers trail over my chest, down my abs, and stop at the waistband of my shorts.
"Riley, may I…." she slips her fingertips under the elastic. "May I…explore your body?"
"Yeah, honey," I whisper. "You can do anything you want. I'm here for you."
She grins, shy and eager at the same time. "I have been awake for some time, trying to determine how to communicate this desire I feel."
"Well, you have." I grin at her, but it's wobbly and nervous, and my heart is hammering. "Can't say I'm exactly mad about it, either.”
"That is humor through hyperbolic understatement, yes?"
I laugh, caressing her cheek, tracing hair out of her eyes. "Yeah, babe."
"The reverse then being true means you are…eager to be touched?"
I take her hands and kiss each palm. "Yeah, darlin', I am. Very. But only what you feel comfortable with. No pressure and stop at any time. Ask me anything. This is all you, okay? You're in control."
"I believe the first order of business, then," she bites her lower lip, eyes raking down my body to linger at the obvious bulge in the front of my shorts, “is the removal of your shorts."
"You want me to? Or you want to?" I ask.
"May I? Please?"
I roll into her, cup her jaw in both hands, and kiss her. "Yeah, honey. You may."
I roll to my back, tuck my hands behind my head, fingers laced, and try to look casual, unaffected.
The opposite is true. I'm more nervous now than I was before my first time fooling around with a girl. Weird, but true.
This means something to me, though. Not that that didn't way back when I was fifteen and convinced Heather Marshall to make out with me behind the bleachers after school. That meant something to me, and everything in between has.
