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I palm one and lean down, sliding my leg up to hold her thigh down on the bed, keeping her open for me. And then I suck on her other nipple, making her back arch and push her breast to me. I take that invitation.
Biting softly, just enough to make her moan and shift and try and lift up her hips, I move to the other, giving it the exact same treatment. “See?”
Her eyes are half closed, languid, and she watches me. “I think you’re drunk.”
“Tipsy, but I’ve been thinking about your breasts since right after I met you.”
“You have not.”
“I have. I try and keep it professional. Bookstore professional.”
That elicits a small laugh from her. “You’re different tonight.”
“Bad or good?”
“I like it, but this…”
I kiss her softly, stopping her words. “This is tonight, Zoey. The world can wait.”
I am being different. I’m being me. More me than I think I’ve been in a while. Because right now I’m not playing games. I’m diving into the moment with her, something I don’t do. Or, something I don’t do like this.
Not reckless, not with someone as soft and lovely like her.
Not with someone I’m going to—
I don’t let myself finish that thought. Instead, I continue my exploration of her. And I slide my hand low, down over her ribs, over the soft swell of her tummy, and then down, through the strip of short curls to that hot, glistening prize there.
I’m rewarded with her gasp as I tease her clit, then lower, along those lips, and down and into the hot, tight depths of her with my fingers.
She’s moaning now and the sound of her voice when she’s turned on should be bottled and sold. It’s glorious and hot as hell.
“Magnus! Oh, God, you’re going to make me come again.”
I smile and start to finger her slowly, in and out, keeping a steady stroke against her clit until she starts to ride the wave, until she begins to tighten, her thighs trying to bear down together.
But I don’t let her. I just keep up my slow rhythm and I watch her.
She still watches me back, but this time she gasps, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, and she slides her hand down my face.
I curl my fingers inside her, and begin to hit her G-spot.
She loses it, and comes on my hand, thrashing in the bed, gasping for air.
Watching Zoey orgasm is a sight to behold. I’m hard as fuck because it’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.
She’s gasping, muttering nonsense words as I hit that spot again, massaging until she’s hit with a bigger, harder wave. And she pushes at me, then pulls me down on her and I kiss her and kiss her. It’s like I can’t get enough of her delicious mouth, those kisses.
I take my hand slowly from her body, but she wraps around me, still kissing, and I can’t stop either.
And then my sweet little Zoey does something incredible.
She pushes me hard. Down onto the bed on my back and she rises up over me. At first I think she’s going to fuck me and I’m all for it. This is a night of passion for passion’s sake. Something I started, right or wrong, and if she wants to ride me, I’m going to let her.
But she doesn’t. Instead she slides down my body. Zoey touches, kisses, explores, and then she comes to my cock.
And she takes me in her mouth.
Oh, holy fuck.
