Page 96 of Tell Me Again

“Let me love you,” he murmurs, and then heat courses through me as he presses a kiss to my tip. So fucking good.

“Yes. Fuck, yes.”

He strokes me with his hand one more time before taking me in his mouth, all at once. Decisively, but slowly. And his mouth is hot and wet. And it’s fucking good. I’m moaning again and crying out something, probably his name, and he’s sliding up and down my length with this fucking confidence that he’s always had, since that first time. It somehow makes me feel like he’s here just to pleasure me, just to love me, just for me. Like I’m the most important thing in his world.

And maybe I am. He’s certainly the most important thing in mine.

“God, yeah. Fucking good,” I choke out, and then I’m moaning again as he does something with his tongue. It’s fucking divine.

I’m right on the edge in just a few more seconds, my whole body full and tight and tingling. Just before I’m about to come, he pulls back slowly and lets me slip from his mouth. It’s dizzying. And fucking incredible. I groan and tug him up to me so I can kiss him. His lips are warm and wet, and it’s more of the same—some deep, intense love and all this trust and hope. All those feelings I never really expected I’d ever feel again.

He lets out some strangled whimper this time and breaks the kiss, breathing hard. Then he twists around to grab the bottle of lube he’d set on the bed a few minutes ago. “Turn over?”

“Hmm? Oh, right.” I’m foggy, and everything’s fucking buzzing. I roll away from him, onto my stomach, but he settles his hand on my hip and tugs gently.

“No, on your side,” he says. And I comply, shifting to face away from him. His hand runs along my outer thigh as he scoots up closer to me and kisses my bare shoulder. Why that touch feels like so much more than just a kiss, I’m not sure, but my whole body’s on fire now.

“Ahh, fuck, I want you.”

He laughs. “Patience. Slowly, right?”

I’m groaning again, biting back some silly retort about how he could still fucking hurry up. He kisses me again, at the base of my neck this time, and my dick throbs with anticipation.

“Bend your knee.” His voice is soft, and when I follow his instruction, he kisses me again. “Perfect, yeah.”

Then his fingers massage into me, slick with lube. Everything’s suddenly hot and bright, and he’s got me moaning his name and pushing my ass back into him as his fingers circle my entrance. His other hand presses into my back, and he continues kissing my neck.

God, it’s all so fucking much.

“Please, I need you,” I beg, arching back into him again.

Fuck. I know to be patient. It feels better when he’s taken his time. But right now, I’m still on the edge, still feeling like I’m about to crash. And patience is the last thing on my mind.

“Shh, almost ready,” he murmurs, and fuck, that’s hot. He’s fucking taking care of me, isn’t he?

One finger dips in, stretching me slightly, and I moan.

“It feels good?”

“Fuck, yessssss.”

And then maybe he pushes into me with two fingers. Fuck if I know. All I know is he’s hitting whatever that perfect spot is that he knows how to hit, and it’s fucking magic.

“You’re ready for me now,” he says finally. And it’s not a question, but I nod because that’s all I can manage. Fuck, yeah, I’m ready.

There’s a moment where his fingers leave my ass, and then he’s stroking my back with his free hand while breathing kisses along my shoulder. His rigid shaft presses against me, rubbing between my ass cheeks before he scoots a little lower and shifts to guide himself in. He goes slowly—because he knows that’s how I want it—and he fills me, inching his thickness into me until he’s fully sheathed. Then his arm comes around to grip my chest, and his hot breath blows on my back with a shudder.

“God, you feel good. So, so good.”

I grunt some sort of agreement, and he holds me tighter as he starts to pull back out. Not quite all the way, then he’s back in again. There’s a rhythm to it. A fucking good rhythm. Slow and all that shit.

Fuck, he loves me.

That’s all I can think as I twist slightly, trying to reach him for a kiss. Somehow, without losing the contact we’ve got, he makes that happen, and his lips capture mine. We’re both moaning together, and then I break the kiss and arch back into him as he thrusts into me again and again. Faster. Just a little.

“Godddddd, yes. Fuck. Harder.”

“Ahh, you don’t mean that,” he teases, his voice rough. He pauses with his dick all the way inside me, his hand pressing into my chest, holding me still. He whispers, low and sexy, “You like it slow.”

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