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After they’re dry, I move lower. She bites herlip.
“How do you like to befucked?”
“Slow.”
I pull her thighs open and rub the towel between her legs. She inches wider, an invitation I can’trefuse.
I trace the line of her slit, rewarded by her hiccup ofbreath.
I do the same thing again, just to show her I’m in control even if I’mnot.
All I can think is that the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, the one who challenges me and looks out for me and teases me, is spread wide for me. She’s here and perfect and I want to devourher.
I will. I'm fucking tired of denying this. We can have it, and I’ll make it so damn good she’ll say my name every time she comes formonths.
I'll make it so good, it lasts—not only the sex, but this indefinable feeling ofrightness.
I rub my thumb through her wetness and up over her clit. Daisy’s hips buck hard. I do it again and she writhes. Then she props up on her elbows towatch.
“Don’t stop.” She catches her lip between her teeth and I’m jealous because I want to taste it, suck on it, bite it formyself.
I lift my fingers to her lips, press them against her until she opens andsucks.
Blood races to my already hard dick as I groan. “You’re so fuckingsweet.”
When she releases my fingers with a pop, I trace down her body, settling between her thighs. I want to feel her stretch around me, watch her squirm. My thumb rubbing her clit once more, I press two fingers where she’s wettest and watch them sinkinside.
She fists the bedsheets as I fill her. I absorb her scent, her breathy sounds, the way she writhes beneath me. There’s nothing hotter than watching the most capable woman I know make room for me in her body, and in herlife.
The stakes are more thansex.
But tonight, I'm done holdingback.
15
This isn’t happening.
I’m not naked on a hotel bed, my best friend kneeling between mylegs.
If there’s a dictionary entry forhot, it’s this man, his dark eyes wicked, his tux jacket and vest off, and his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows as he fingersme.
Today was a trip, spending time with him and feeling what it could be like between us. Feeling like all his attention was on me was a headything.
Not nearly as heady as the fact that Ben is between my thighs, watching me as if I’m every filthy fantasy he’s everhad.
When he presses two fingers right where I’m wet, the firm pressure never stopping until his knuckles brush my skin, Itremble.
He curls those fingers and I arch up off thebed.
“Jesus, Ben,” I gasp, my hands fisting in theduvet.
His thumb rubs wicked circles that match the hungry expression on hisface.
I’ve never found anything as sexy as the way he’s looking at me, utterlyintent.
“I almost couldn’t let you leave tonight in thatdress.”
“It’s technically your dress. So are the other two hanging in my closet backhome.”
