Page 87 of Make Me Dream of You

I’ve always thought my breasts were a bit small, not even a handful, but they’re perky and firm and oh god, he’s licking his lips.

I hold my breath to keep him from noticing how shallow my breathing has become.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers. “So beautiful.”

I let out a breath and try to smile through quivering lips.

“Show me what you do next,” he says.

I spread my legs apart.

“Good girl,” he rasps. Warmth ripples down my spine and settles in my core, tinged with nerves and excitement.

His eyes follow my hand as I slide it down my stomach and over my panties. Down to where I’m heated and achy, to where the cotton is already damp. I rub my fingers over the fabric, the light pressure against the pulsing between my legs is barely enough to soothe the ache. The need. The hollow, empty feeling.

He presses his palm to his groin, his erection straining under his pants.

I curl two fingers along the side of my panties and move them over, exposing my most sensitive, pink skin to Noah’s eyes.

“Fuck,” he growls.

I stroke my fingers between my folds where it’s hot, my fingertips already wet and slippery. Teasing them up slowly until they brush the underside of my throbbing clit.

A moan escapes my lips, unbidden.

“Talk to me. Tell me what you’re doing and how it feels,” Noah says.

My cheeks burn.

He looks up from where my hand is pressed between my legs to my face. “I know you can do it. I know how naughty you are, my angel.”

I nod. Heart racing, I push my panties down my hips.

“May I?” His eyes are burning.

“Yes,” I breathe.

He inches closer, fingertips barely brushing my thighs as he loops them into my underwear and pulls them down my legs.

I lean back against the pillow and resume stroking circles around my clit.

“Does it feel good?” he asks.

“Yes. It feels so good. I’m so wet, Noah.”

“I can see how wet that pretty little pussy is for me.”

My breath hitches. “Do you like it?”

He nods. “I like it. I like you—spread out, wet, and eager for me.”

Oh. Oh fuck. I drag my soaked fingers down and back up through my pussy. Slow strokes then faster circles over my swollen clit.

“Fuck. My cock is so hard for you. Can I take it out?”

“Yes. Please.” My words are stilted.

He groans and I pant. In a lust-filled haze, I feel bold.

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