Page 40 of Amber: Deja Brew

I gasp.

I don’t know what to expect, but Julian suddenly grabbing the waistbands of my skirt and panties and pulling them both down to my thighs isn’t it.

I have this sudden urge to cover myself, but before I can act on it, Julian buries his face between my legs.

I gasp again.

Then Julian slides his tongue slowly along my slit, and I nearly launch myself off the bed. Obviously, the mattress is way too soft to do much launching—or even arching—and there’s the whole matter of Julian’s weight keeping me in place. So I settle for moaning and then whimpering instead.

Julian licks me again, and I cry out as pleasure courses through me. I try to spread my legs to give him more access, but my panties are still locked around my lower thighs, keeping them in place.

I groan in frustration and try to sit up so I can take care of the panties, but Julian pushes me back down.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He smirks up at me, and then he spreads my lower lips with both hands and buries his face between my legs.

Each lick, each suck, each pull on my clit brings me closer and closer to the end. And the frustration of not being able to spread my legs, when literally every instinct in my body is urging me to, somehow only adds to the building pleasure.

“More,” I cry, grabbing a handful of his hair and holding him in place.

Then I realize what I’m doing and nearly shatter right then and there. Because the guy I’ve always loved—the guy I’ve always wanted—is kissing me in the most intimate way a person can.

“Oh, Juli,” I cry out, and he suddenly stops. “No, please, don’t stop. I want more.”

“Do you?” he purrs, his breath caressing my exposed clit, making me squirm. He keeps me spread with both hands and looks down with a self-satisfied smile that makes me blush even as I feel more wetness pool between my legs. Then, he looks back up, with my fingers still threaded through his hair, creating a moment so intimate that heat surges through me from head to toe.

“More, Juli, please,” I beg, wiggling my hips.

“Are you really going to call me Juli while I’m doing this?” He lowers his head and gives my clit a gentle lick. The touch is so light I barely feel it, and yet it’s enough to make my inner muscles clench with need.

“Julian,” I beg. “Julian, please.”

“Say my name again,” he orders, giving me another soft, teasing, barely-there lick.

“Julian!” I cry. “Stop teasing me and make me come.”

I can’t believe my own ears, or that I’d be so bold, but the self-satisfied grin on Julian’s face tells me he likes it. “I love teasing you, Bean,” he says, and proceeds to show me how much.

Soon, he has me thrashing, pleading, and crying out his name, over and over again. Julian, not Juli, because I want this so bad I think I might die.

“Say my name,” Julian orders, even though I’ve said it like a million times.

“Julian!” I repeat, and then I scream. Because instead of the teasing touches, he suddenly latches onto my clit and sucks it until I come. And then he keeps sucking until I’m so spent I can barely breathe.

“Did you like that?” Julian smiles up at me.

I mumble a bunch of stuff, about how good it felt, about how hot he is. I’m not even sure my reply makes sense, but I know that my satisfied smile is answer enough.

“Come here.” I open my arms, and Julian grins. He pulls my panties and skirt into place and then slides up my body and wraps me in his arms.

“Your turn?” I ask, reaching between us for the waistband of his jeans. I want to taste him and feel him inside me again, but Julian stops me.

“Next time,” he says softly, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. I want to protest, but his whispered words steal my breath and send my heart racing. “I love you, Amber.”

“I love you too, Julian,” I whisper back, and then I fall asleep.