Page 109 of The Right Move

I exhale a humorless laugh. “That night we went camping? I thought about you while I was in the shower and just about every time since.”

Her hands rake down my stomach again, every muscle in my abdomen contracting. “Why didn’t you do something about it when you came back to bed?”

“I didn’t know you wanted me to, but I’ve dreamt of seeing you like this. On your back, your legs around me.”

She reaches for the buckle on my belt, unfastening it. “Well, you’ve got me here now, so what are you going to do?”

“Nothing.”

Her movements halt, brows forming the most adorably frustrated scowl. “What?”

I run both my palms over her stomach and waist, loving the way she feels under my touch. “I’m not going to do anything. You’re going to. You’re going to make yourself come.”

“But I can’t,” she protests. “It doesn’t work. Please, Ryan. You said you’d help me.”

“I am helping. I’m going to distract you, and you’re going to touch yourself.” I take her hand, guiding it to her lower stomach. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, I do.” Her eyes soften. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation, and the realization that I’ve never trusted another woman more than I do Indy has me real close to finding a condom and saying fuck it to my two-year celibacy streak.

There’s a fierce surge of possessiveness running through me, screaming mine. Her legs are spread on my couch. She lives in my house. She wants my cock.

But I internally scold myself. Tonight is for her.

“Touch yourself, Ind. Make yourself feel good.” Sitting up on my knees, I peel off my shirt, tossing it to the ground. “But first, for the love of God, show me what’s underneath.”

Falling over her, I keep myself hovering her body with one arm, my dick gliding against her center. I almost come right then, and the painful buildup worsens when Indy arches her back in pleasure, giving me just enough room to unclasp her bra with my free hand.

Fabric in my favorite color loosens around her bust before she drops it to the ground. Her tits are fucking wonderful, tempting and needing to be sucked.

“Ind,” I breathe out in disbelief, leaning back to get a better view. “You’re fucking beautiful. I mean, I knew you were, but dear God.”

“You should probably touch me then, don’t you think?”

Little smartass.

I nod. “Probably.”

Her tits are less than a handful, but when I grab one and squeeze, it feels perfect in my palm. I run my thumb over the hard pebbled peak with so much tender appreciation. Thanking her for letting me see her body, for letting me touch her.

She whimpers the most angelic cry.

Her palm curves around the back of my neck, pulling me down, and without further hesitation, I take her nipple, sucking the rose tip before flicking it with my tongue. Taking her flesh between my teeth, I gently bite, letting her precious cries fill our living room.

Her lower half is squirming with anticipation, her pussy finding friction against me. I take my time moving on to her other breast, giving equal attention and admiration.

Between us, I move her hand back to the hem of her dress, using my own to guide it upward. “Show me.”

I lick a path between her tits, my eyes locking on hers. She’s dilated and dazed, soft under my tongue. I love seeing her like this. My chaotic girl is even more disordered, unable to breathe in a steady rhythm, unable to let her mind wander to places it shouldn’t.

Looking down, I watch our hands bring her dress up, slowly sliding the satin against her soft thighs. It gathers around her hips, and she lifts her ass off the couch to bring the material to her waist.

I’ve never loved the color black more than I do now, seeing it wet and between Indy’s legs.

I want to bury myself in her, in her scent. I want to lick and suck and tongue what I know is going to be the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, but tonight is about her remembering she can take care of herself.

I bury my head into the crook of her neck, looking down between us. My erection is desperate for relief, but I’m trying my hardest to show some restraint.

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