Page 97 of One Wrong Move

“There, baby. I need to be able to touch all of you.” His voice is hoarse, and deeper somehow, here in the darkness where I can’t quite make out his face.

His fingers circle for a long time. So long that I start to go boneless, floating on the waves of pleasure not quite intense enough to get me over the crest. I turn my face into his shoulder. His skin is warm and firm and smells like soap. The same soap I almost used up.

“I need to get inside you. I want to feel you squeezing around me,” he murmurs, running his fingers down my sensitive skin. He slides one into me, curving it, and I sigh at the sensation. “Fuck, your pussy feels good.”

Another fierce blush spreads across my cheeks. His voice, the voice I’ve come to know so well, saying those things… speaking them against my temple. He adds another finger to the first. It’s the most delicious feeling, the faintest of burns, as he caresses me on the inside.

“I’m not vibrating, am I?” he asks.

It’s so surprising that a small laugh bursts out of me. “No. But I like it anyway.”

“Like it?” He uses his thumb to press on my clit, and a small yelp escapes me. “I want to do better than that. Tell me what you’d do.”

“I’d do… I’d do… what you’re doing.”

“Yeah?”

It’s hard to get the words out. Hard when he’s fucking me slowly with his fingers, curving them inside in a way I’ve never really experienced before, and using his thumb on my clit. “Mm-hmm. I mainly focus… just on my…”

“Tell me, baby.”

The word comes out in a hush. “My clit.”

“Most effective way to make yourself come.” His voice is in my ear, and it feels deliciously decadent to have it there. Guiding me through all of it.

The soles of my feet press down on the mattress. “Yes.”

“When you just want to go to sleep.”

“Oh… yes.”

His curling fingers are working a part inside of me that hasn’t been explored before. Never been focused on. It feels different and good, and utterly exotic. Deeper, somehow, than any pleasure I ever felt. The kind that always radiated from my clit.

“You’re so soft here,” he murmurs. His breath is coming fast, too, and I love the sound of that, and the raspiness in his voice. I close my eyes and focus on the sensations. “Soft like silk, and so warm. Fuck, you’re warm. I love doing this… rubbing your clit. It’s so swollen. I can’t vibrate, baby, but I can do this, and I can?—”

My orgasm takes us both by surprise. It starts with a small gasp, and then pleasure overtakes me, radiating from his touch, his fingers, from deep within me. Where he had stroked steadily.

I arch my back, and the arm around my chest tightens, holding me securely, and it’s all I can do not to moan. I have to bite down on my tongue to keep it from coming out.

Nate strokes me through all of it. His fingers skilled and slick now, moving along my pussy, little shots of electric energy traveling in ripples along my skin. So sensitive.

“That was good. That was so good,” he murmurs. Are those his lips against my ear? I want to turn and look, to turn and meet them, but I can barely move. I feel boneless. “You came so beautifully. You squeezed tight around my fingers, too, when you did.”

“Did I?”

“Oh yes.” His hand slides along my inner thigh, until he finds my panties, tugging them up with gentle movements until I’m covered once again. “You did so good.”

The praise makes me feel hot again. Dean never said things like that. No guy I’d ever been with said things like that.

There’s something hard against my hip.

As soon as I become aware of it, it’s impossible to notice anything but that. In the warm afterglow of my orgasm, he’s the only thing I can think of. It.

“Nate,” I breathe.

His hand is brushing slow circles around my hip bone again, the way he had in the beginning. Returned to its original position. “Yes?”

“You’re hard.”

---