Page 111 of Casanova LLC

She sat up and shrugged the material down her shoulders. I pulled it off and let it fall to the floor. She was face to face with me now. Eyes open, lips parted, and very present. “Because I want to feel how I felt that night.”

I eased my hand up behind her back and unsnapped her little bra with two fingers. “And how was that?”

Her back arched slightly. “Alive.”

Her bra dropped. I tossed it on top of her blouse. “And what are you feeling now?”

She covered her chest with one arm, peering at me. “Nervous.”

After a considering moment, I leaned back.

I did my best to appear calm. “Why are you nervous?” Why was I nervous?

She nibbled her lip. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

What? I didn’t want to disappoint her. “How would you disappoint me?”

“I’m not…known for…” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I’ve never been good at this. Oral, yes. Sex? I want it to be good for you, too.”

I didn’t. I wanted it to be fucking terrible. I wanted to never want to have sex with her again. But I knew the way you know a head cold is coming on that I wouldn’t be so lucky.

I leaned forward, brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead. Ran my hands down along her shoulders. “I want you to know how much I want this. Want you. How attracted I...how much I…feel for you.”

“Have you ever felt like this before?”

“No, that’s just it. That’s why I?—”

“Then why do you think this will be like it’s been before? Some very wise person once said, ‘No assumptions, no expectations.’” I kissed her temple. “Socrates?” Her other one. “Plato?”

After a moment, she nodded.

“Just keep wanting what you want, feeling what you feel, and speak it. All of it. Let me know you, Claire. I want to know your voice.”

Her eyes cleared, then, as if I’d unlocked her. The final, tricky little padlock in the escape room of her being. “I want you to kiss me.”

I captured her mouth without hesitation. She effortlessly dropped to her back and I moved over her. Our kiss deepened, my hands braced on either side of her head, her fingers carding through my hair.

They traveled to the neck of my sweater. “I want this off.”

I reached behind me, whipped it over my head. She was up on her elbows, kissing my chest, my throat, one shoulder, the other. Her hands found my belt. “Off.”

I rocked back on my knees, feet finding the step. Unbuckled, unbuttoned, unzipped. Pushed down and off until I was standing in my black boxer briefs. I let her look at me until I couldn’t take it anymore; the desire, the want, the promise in her eyes. I nudged off my shoes and socks, disentangled myself from the cluster around my feet.

I crawled back up her body, dropping kisses along it as I went. She moaned such a breathy yes when I brushed her breasts that I lingered there, mouthing, licking, sucking until she arched into my mouth. “I think…I mean, I want…”

My eyes went to her face: closed-eyed bliss, with a little tension in her brow. “Yes?”

“I want your mouth.”

“Where?”

“Lower.”

I moved down to her quivering stomach. “Here?”

She smiled. “Not quite.”

I jumped back up to her breast, took her nipple in my mouth, tongued it voraciously. “Are you saying you want this even lower?” I asked around her flesh. She nodded fiercely. “Say it.”

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