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I know what I’m asking, and I know that this is probably faster than either of us planned on things moving, but we’ve been skirting around one another for a month now, and I’m tired of pretending that I don’t want this. I’ve been so closed off in these last two years that I forgot how to let people in. I forgot how to have fun and let myself want. Let myself have things simply because they make me happy, and Bodhi makes me happy. He makes me feel good about myself, what I do, how I race… he makes me feel alive.
Leaning in, I flick my tongue over his top lip, smiling coyly through shallow panting breaths.
“I want more, Bodhi. Please?”
“Fuck, princess,” he expels a breathy chuckle, leaning his forehead against mine. “How can I say no when you ask so sweetly?”
Peppering quick kisses over my lips, he doesn’t take notice of me pulling down my panties until I’m wiggling from side to side, trying to maneuver my way out of them.
Dropping them to the floor, I spread my legs wider before him. His nostrils flare as he takes me in, and my stomach flutters with anticipation.
“Are you sure?” he asks, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip as if he can already taste me. My eyes track the movement, and a nervous smile pulls at the corners of my mouth.
“More,” I repeat for a third time, my voice barely a whisper.
The grin that spreads across his face promises satisfaction, and I feel my sex clench in anticipation.
Bodhi works his lips down my body until he’s kneeling at the juncture of my thighs. He places a kiss on the inside of each leg, then leans forward and draws in a deep breath.
“Fuck,” I hear him say before his tongue is sweeping over my sensitive flesh. His groan reverberates against my clit before he’s devouring every inch of me, hooking one arm around my thigh to draw me closer, while the other is pressed firmly against my thigh, holding me open for him.
“Oh God,” I call out, throwing my head back and losing myself in the sensation.
His tongue swirls around my clit before sliding down and licking deep inside of me. I cry out, unable to control myself as I feel the orgasm building. I can feel him, breath hot against me, his tongue seeking out that spot inside of me.
“Bodhi,” I beg him, “I’m so close, please.”
His fingers find my clit once again, and it takes mere strokes before I’m coming, my body arching up off the counter as I bury my hands in his hair. He doesn’t stop until he’s wrung every bit of pleasure from my body. When he stands, my arousal still fresh on his lips, I find that I am far less concerned than I would have thought when he leans over and claims my mouth.
I can taste myself on him, and I’m surprised to say it turns me on more than I expected. Knowing that his tongue is tasting my mouth the way it just tasted my sex.
Placing my hands on his chest, I push him back enough for me to slide off the counter and stand in front of him. He’s about to ask what I’m doing when I give him another nudge before sinking to my knees and reaching for his belt.
“Keaton,” he says, grabbing my hand and stopping me once again. “You don’t have to do that. I wanted this to be about you,” he says, thinking that I’m only attempting to reciprocate the gesture.
“But—”
“This isn’t about me,” he says again, trying to reassure me.
“Okay, fine,” I say, and watch his shoulders relax as he brings his hand up to brush my wild hair aside. “But if this is, in fact, about me, then let me have what I want.”
I feel bolder than I have in a long time, and the heat that reignites in his eyes only spurs me on.
“I want to make you feel good, too.”
Chapter 40
She’s a fucking dream.
On her knees at my feet, unhooking my belt and pulling the zipper of my jeans down, so slowly it’s almost excruciating. I watch her nimble fingers work my pants down over my hips until they’re resting around my knees. Hooking her fingers into the waistband of my briefs, she peeks up at me for half a second before she pulls those down, too.
My cock springs free, standing at full attention, and her eyes zero in on it.
She slides her hands up my thighs until she is grasping me in her hands, stroking me slowly from root to tip.
“Holy shit, Princess,” I hiss, trying to hold back and let her go at her own pace, but I don’t know how long I can take this slow torture.
I make it only a few more pulls before I circle her hand with mine, showing her how much pressure I like, and while I’m at it, I pick up the pace. Just a bit. And right when I feel the tingle at the base of my spine begin, she lets go.
