Page 59 of Every Time We Touch

I can’t help myself. I reach for her again. I need her lips against mine. I need the warmth of her tongue—the promise of what it can do already taking over my mind.

Her hands slide beneath my top and that, too, I need. Her skin on mine. These clothes off me as quickly as possible. Tonight is not for slowly undressing. I meant what I said earlier. I really do need her, more than anything, to fuck me senseless. And I know that she will—it’s what she’s been doing since the first time I set foot in her apartment. But I need more than that tonight. I need to get out of my head. Step out of myself while also, simultaneously, being my most true self. With her.

Her palms skim up my back, her fingers finding the clasp of my bra. Even though it’s a little frenzied, we manage, for the most part, to look into each other’s eyes while undressing—to hold on to that connection.

She pushes me onto the bed, glues her body to mine, and kisses me. It’s the same as when she asked me to dance earlier. It releases something in me that I’ve been holding on to since I left Dad’s house. It relaxes the part of me that’s always on, always worried—and I have quite a few worries today. But they no longer matter when Clancy’s tongue slips into my mouth, when I feel her lips stretch into a smile against mine, because, when we’re together, despite everything, we can’t help but smile.

Deep in my belly, heat starts building. Her hand roams from my cheek to my throat, resting there, but only for a moment, before she cups my breast. Before she rolls my nipple between her fingers. Before she drives me completely crazy again.

Her lips drift from my mouth to my ear. “I think you need more than my fingers tonight.”

My only response to that wicked glint in her eyes is a throaty, “Fuck yeah.”

Hers is to pinch my nipple and send me one more sultry grin. “Don’t move,” she says, then hops off the bed.

I watch her prance about the room naked, tiptoeing—as though she’s kind of always dancing—to a set of drawers by the door and rummage inside for something that I know will delight the hell out of me.

She turns around and shows me a folded-up towel, which she slowly unrolls, revealing what’s inside.

“Will this do?” Her voice has dropped into an even lower register.

My mouth goes a little dry at the sight of the sleek, pitch-black toy she’s holding.

“Only one way to find out,” I just manage to utter.

Clancy steps into the black briefs with the kind of easy confidence that makes my pulse spike. My eyes cling to the flex of her thighs and the assured movements of her hands as she adjusts the toy into place.

Goose bumps rise across my skin as she walks toward the bed with that fluid grace she has in such abundance. Every step ignites another surge of wanting, my nipples tightening while anticipation thrums through me. By the time she reaches me, my breathing has turned shallow and uneven, my body reacting to her before she’s even touched me.

She opens the nightstand drawer and produces a bottle of lube. She puts it down and joins me on the bed. The toy presses briefly against my stomach as she settles over me, and the promise of it sends a tremor through me. Clancy brushes my hair back from my face before kissing me again, slow and deep, and my body gives in to her immediately.

Her mouth stays on mine while her hand glides down my stomach, the ache for her building with every inch of movement. The toy nudges against me when she shifts her hips, a delicious reminder of what’s coming. When her fingers slip between my thighs, I part for her instinctively, my breath catching against her lips.

“Let me make you forget everything,” Clancy murmurs as her fingers slip through my wetness. “Except how good I can make you feel.”

My mind’s fully blank already. She’s all over me. The toy presses closer and her fingertips skate a little deeper with every stroke, until she holds still and looks at me. She pushes fully into me and I can only gasp, can only try to catch my breath as her fingers slip inside.

“I’ve got you,” she whispers.

A shiver rolls through me at her words, and I soften beneath her in response. My thighs spread wider, silently asking for more. And when she curls her fingers just right, pleasure flashes through me so hard my eyes fall shut.

Behind my closed eyelids, sparks of pleasure burst brightly. Her fingers thrust deeper, stroking that maddening spot inside me again and again until my hips start moving helplessly toward her. The toy presses against my thigh every time she shifts, winding me tighter with every brush of it. Just when the pressure inside me starts to feel almost unbearable, Clancy eases her fingers out, and the emptiness she leaves behind nearly drives me out of my mind.

When I open my eyes, Clancy reaches for the bottle of lube. She squirts some into her palm and brings her slick fingers to the toy, spreading it over the length of it with slow strokes. Then she shifts lower between my legs, her hands guiding my thighs wider as she settles there. The first teasing brush of the toy against me makes me move toward her more. Fuck, how I want her.

Instead of giving me what I want, she drags the toy slowly through my wetness, once, twice, the broad pressure of it turning my breath ragged.

When the tip skates along my clit, my hips chase her, wanting more—wanting everything.

Clancy looks at me, her eyes narrowing as she slides in slowly. The stretch of it makes my back arch off the bed, my hands grabbing shoulders as she keeps easing deeper, giving my body time to take her in.

“That’s it,” she whispers, never taking her eyes off me, as I let her all the way in.

She stills for one suspended heartbeat, letting me feel every inch of her, before she starts moving inside me in slow, deep strokes that leave me trembling beneath her. A moan escapes me. Clancy kisses me as she fucks me, swallowing every gasp and groan she pulls from me.

I cling to her as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me, each thrust pulling another helpless sound from somewhere deep inside my chest.

The fullness of her is so overwhelming that my throat tightens with emotion—my eyes sting with it—as my body unravels. And maybe this is all a terrible mistake, maybe I’ve detonated my life beyond repair, but when she buries herself deep inside me and anchors me with a kiss so tender it almost hurts, I understand all over again why I couldn’t walk away from her.