Page 51 of Never Have I Ever

His steps through the house feel like a warning, but my body reacts on instinct, readying itself for him. I want to roll my eyes, but my nerves are getting the best of me despite dying to have sex with him.

He chuckles when he sees me. “Comfortable?”

“Very.”

“Looks it.” He drops packets of condoms down on the coffee table like candy. One. Two. Three. Good lord, there are four. I rub my legs together, wondering if I should be worried about my ability to walk tomorrow. Four. He has big plans, and the thought alone has me purring.

Laird sits at the other end of the couch, his hand resting on my leg as if we do this every day. Oh wow. Is every day a possibility? Yes, please. His hair is messier, his eyebrows wilder as if he’s run a hand over his brow a few times. He finally says, “I want to make this good for you—”

“Can’t go wrong.”

Slipping off the couch, he kneels beside me. “I was hoping you’d say that.” The blanket is peeled from my body. His breath stops hard, but then he smiles as he reaches to trace the outline of our twin tattoo.

“It matches yours,” I whisper, unsure what else to say.

“It does.” He leans down and kisses it twice. With his fingers lingering there, he says, “Put your legs over my shoulders.”

“What?”

As if having my boobs vulnerable to the cold air weren’t enough, now he wants to go dow—I spin into place, facing him and the fire roaring a few feet away. There’s no smooth or sexy way to do this, but his eyes are still locked on me like a lion about to get a steak.

He places each of my legs over his shoulders, but our height difference comes into play. He tugs me by the ass until I’m on my back. There are no pleasantries exchanged or how you are doing, no kissing to warm me up, and no foreplay. Laird angles his shoulders and gives my vagina a once-over before diving right in.

I jolt from the sensations shooting straight from my core, already knowing this will be too much to hold on. “Ah, Laird.” He looks up from between my legs and licks his lips.

Take me now.

I.

Am.

Dead.

With his eyes still on mine, he drags his tongue through my lower lips and then asks, “What is it?”

I suck in a breath and exhale. “Nothing. You just . . .” Too turned on to even think, I mutter, “Carry on.”

His smirk is as rogue as it gets, and he dips back down, his tongue traveling through my slit to stake claim to my entrance.

My mouth falls open, and a moan tumbles out. I grab his shoulders, mesmerized by the sight of him and the fire blazing in the background. “So hot.”

Instead of fighting to stay present, I chase the feeling. Being kissed like it’s my mouth is so dirty it’s sexy. He smashes his mouth against me while his fingers take ownership of my clit. A fleeting thought has me wondering if it will ever be mine again. Not when it feels this good to be touched, sucked, blissfully tortured by him.

Wriggling, I push myself against that marvelous mouth of his, needing more. “Yes, harder.”

He plunges his tongue, thrusting in and out without reprieve, an onslaught of warm breath and rough kisses. Every pulse, every beat of my heart on high alert, every part of me is a live wire ready to send me over the edge.

Closing my eyes, I follow the darkness, seeking the light. Pushing my head into the cushion, I begin to lose touch. “Laird,” I cry in sheer pleasure, then tumble to my fate. “Yes. God, yes.”

My body is cold, and my legs are spun to the side. A packet ripping breaks through my psyche. Laird settles on top of me, spreading my legs with his knee.

As the last of the tremors roll through me, I open my eyes. “Oh my God.”

He smiles, no arrogance in sight. “Do you feel good?”

“So good.” I butterfly my legs and cup his face. “But I need more.” I kiss him, tasting myself on his mouth and lifting my hips to meet the tip of his erection. “I want you.”

So fast.

---