Page 10 of Committed to You

“Oh…oh…” Her cries become louder as her stomach rises and falls with her breath.

“I like this. Do you like this?” I murmur then flick my tongue inside her hole, not expecting her to answer but knowing she likes it by the sharp inhale of her breath and when her walls clench around my tongue.

I rub her hips before yanking her body onto my face and latching my mouth onto her clit.

“Chase…oh…” she cries out as her thighs squeeze me, and she bucks into my mouth.

And I’ll be damned if she doesn’t taste like a gourmet dessert that bursts in your mouth the minute it hits your tongue, erupting with flavors that get more delectable with time. Yes, that’s Vivian—a dessert you know you should only have a little of but can’t help going back for more.

“Don’t stop,” she pleads with shaky breath, digging her nails into my scalp, as I circle her clit with my tongue then massage it with my lips.

As I bring her to another high, she convulses in my mouth, calling out my name, and squashing any possibility of getting her out of my system.

Slowly, I make my way up her quivering body, doting on her breasts, sucking on her neck, then finally consuming her lips once more. My dick is pulsing and ready to go, but I remind it again it’s not going to get it tonight, unless a miracle occurs and she tells me she wants it.

She’s breathless when I pull away and lie on my side, propped up on my elbow, and cockily say, “I liked that. Did you like that?”

She says nothing as her flush deepens.

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re so cocky.”

“So I’m wrong? You wouldn’t want me to do that to you again?” I trace her lip.

“I’m not into being a number, Chase.”

“Who said you were a number to me?”

“Wow. You know all the comebacks, don’t you? You’ve had this conversation how many times?”

“Actually, I’ve never had this conversation with anyone before.”

She looks like she doesn’t believe me.

“I haven’t. But are you telling me I make you feel like a number?”

The quiet of the night embraces us. My pulse creeps up at the fact that somehow, I made her feel this way. She is nowhere close to being just a number to me. I wrack my brain, trying to figure out what I could have done to make her feel less than important to me.

Finally, she admits, “No. You don’t make me feel like a number.”

I let out a breath. “Good. You aren’t.” I stroke her hair and brush my lips against hers again. “I really like kissing you, too. If we are talking numbers, you’re in my number-one spot.”

“One, huh?” she murmurs against my lips.

“One.” I put my hands under her head, explore her mouth then kiss her forehead as she yawns.

“You’re tired. Do you want me to sleep on the couch, or can I sleep here?”

“Now I get a choice?”

“I didn’t know I took your choice away?”

She sighs. “You’re right. You didn’t.”

“Tell me if you want me to stay or go. You choose.”

Please tell me to stay.

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