Page 151 of Mile High Ruin

She pulls back just enough to breathe, then licks slowly along the underside before taking me again. My hips move before I mean them to.

She hums around me, and the vibration goes straight through me.

“Fuck.”

Her hand tightens.

I’m too close already. I know it from the heat gathering low in my spine and from the way every muscle in my body has started to tense around the need to come.

I catch her shoulders and pull her gently back to her feet.

She looks annoyed. “I wasn’t finished.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you stop me?”

“Because if you continued, this would end much sooner than I intend.”

Her mouth lifts slightly. “That sounds like a you problem.”

I kiss her before she can say anything else. This time she laughs into my mouth, but the sound disappears when I slide one hand beneath her sweater and cup her breast through the thin fabric of her bra. Her nipple hardens beneath my palm, and I rub my thumb over it to make her gasp.

I push the sweater upward and pull it over her head, then reach behind her to undo the bra, letting it fall away before filling both hands with her breasts. She’s warm and soft in my palms, and the way her body arches when I knead them tells me she has missed this as much as I have.

I lower my mouth to one nipple, and her fingers immediately move into my hair.

I suck slowly, letting my tongue circle the hard peak while my hand works the other breast, squeezing and rubbing until her breathing turns uneven.

“Vadim.”

The way she says my name has changed.

Less argument now. More need.

I switch breasts, kissing across her chest before taking the other nipple into my mouth, and she presses closer as if she can’t decide whether she wants more or whether what I’m already doing is too much. I want to see exactly how far I can push her before she stops pretending she has any control left.

My hands move to her hips. I lift her onto the edge of the table inside the sitting room, and she spreads her legs around me before I even ask.

Her skirt rides higher. I slide one hand beneath it. The first touch between her thighs tells me everything.

She is already wet.

Very.

I run two fingers slowly over the outside of her underwear, and her breath catches.

“Don’t look so pleased.”

“I’m extremely pleased.”

“You are impossible.”

“And you are soaking through your panties.”

Her face flushes.

I hook my fingers into the fabric and pull it aside. The first pass of my fingers over her clit makes her legs tighten around my waist. I repeat it slowly.