Page 204 of Tell Me Something True

Time to prove he could change.

He nodded again.

“I need the words,” she chided lightly.

He had to clear his throat, twice, before he was able to speak, and even then, his words were more growl than anything else. “I understand.”

She made another of those humming sounds, the one that indicated how pleased she was with him, then she widened her thighs, settling more of her weight on his lap.

And she touched him.

Just… touched him, her head tipped to the side as she watched her fingers move across his forehead, brushing back his hair. Tracing his left eyebrow, then his right. She trailed her fingers down to his cheeks. Rubbed the flat of her thumb along the bridge of his nose while her other hand cupped his cheek, her fingers stroking the line of his jaw.

His chest locked up. He didn’t move. Couldn’t. Was afraid if he blinked, if he so much as breathed, she’d stop.

And he was one lucky bastard, because he’d never, ever, felt anything as good as her hands on him. Had never seen anything as mesmerizing as the appreciation in her eyes, the hint of stunned joy on her face, as if she was the lucky one because she got to touch him.

Her fingers skimmed the curve of his ears before trailing down his cheeks. Brushed along his chin, then down his throat. Traced his collarbone, then smoothed along his shoulders before gliding back up to cup his face with both hands.

Then, gaze holding his, she leaned down and brushed her lips against his. Miles’s breath stuttered out. He forced himself to stay perfectly still, to let her set the pace, let her have full control of this kiss.

Let her take whatever she needed from him.

She flicked her tongue over the corner of his mouth, then tilted her head from side to side as she explored every centimeter of his mouth with soft, nibbling bites, and quick, teasing flicks of the tip of her tongue.

But he kept his mouth shut, his lips pressed together, testing her even now.

Pushing her to use that power he was giving her.

Wanting her to take it.

“Let me in,” she whispered, and he opened his mouth, her triumph becoming his own when she lazily stroked her tongue against his.

Her fingers stroked into his hair, her nails scraping against his scalp as she kissed him again. And again. Each kiss deeper, wetter, hungrier than the one before until they were both breathing hard. Shutting his eyes, he gave himself over to her kiss. It was a perfect juxtaposition of gentle moans and harsh breathing.

Soft lips and sharp teeth.

Patience and hunger.

Of give and take.

She moved her mouth down to his jaw, brushed her lips down his throat and then up the side of his neck, licking and biting gently. Sucking the sensitive spot under his ear until he writhed beneath her, his hips lifting and lowering, fucking air, trying to find some pressure.

But she kept her weight on her thighs, hovering above him, just out of reach.

Moving down, she scattered pecking kisses across his pecs. Traced one fingertip around his left nipple, circling it until it pebbled into a hard point, then dipped her head and took it into her mouth.

He’d never, not once before, considered his nipples erogenous zones.

Not until right now.

Not until it was the swipe of her tongue against it that had his breath catching.

The light scrape of her teeth that had him shuddering in pleasure.

The warm, wet suction of her mouth that had him groaning.

Each slight tug of her mouth seemed connected directly to his dick, had it pulsing in time with her mouth. Had him leaking in his jeans.

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