Page 79 of Lace 'em Up

My mom’s not here. We don’t have to pretend.

But stopping myself from cupping her jaw, from tilting her face up while I bring mine down is impossible.

Our lips meet, and that fantasy, that dream becomes real life.

In the form of her soft moans, her body melting against mine. She lets me roll her onto her back, legs parting, our pelvises aligning. I can feel the heat of her cunt through the thin layers of material separating us.

But I want more.

I want everything.

I slide a hand between us, slipping it beneath the fabric of her T-shirt, finding silken skin and soft, warm flesh, gentle curves. “Okay?” I murmur when her breath hitches, eyes going wide.

Her lungs inflate on a long, slow breath, and I start to pull my hand back.

“No,” she whispers, fingers wrapping around my wrist, pressing slightly, flattening my palm against her.

“Princess?”

Her throat works, but then she presses her palm against her again. “It’s better than okay.”

And then she’s sitting up slightly, reaching for the hem of her shirt, yanking it up and over her head. It flies across the room, but I’m not tracking it. Instead, my gaze is glued to her, to those gorgeous curves and sun-kissed skin and?—

She reaches for my shirt, tugging it off before I can pounce on her, tossing it away.

Then her hands are on my bare skin, softly tracing over my body. So softly that it’s almost teasing. So softly that the delicate caresses set fire to my veins, to my flesh, to my nerves.

And that’s before her hand slips into the waistband of my underwear, those soft, delicate fingers wrapping around my cock and squeezing hard enough to make my vision haze.

“Fuck!”

The little minx just grins.

And starts stroking.

My brain shuts down, but I have enough control to reach down, to try to slide her hand off. Because her first.

Always her first.

“No,” she says, her free hand coming to my chest, pushing me back, clambering on top of me. That hand continuing to move without hesitation. “Last time was me. This time is you?—”

The squeak she makes as I reverse our positions is adorable, and makes me smile even when all I want to do is fuck her until she can’t remember her name.

“No,” I say. “This time is you.”

She shivers.

“And then you again.”

Another shiver, her lips parting on a shaking exhale. But I see the protest flickering in those emerald eyes.

“And then you again.”

More protest in beautiful green irises.

Which is why I add, “And then me.”

The objection fades.

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