Page 68 of Make Me Want it Too

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice strained, almost desperate. “Please?”

I nod, barely able to get out a squeak of a breath before he’s crawling up to me and pressing his lips to mine. Gentle at first but then his hand is cupping my jaw and his fingers are in my hair and his tongue is sliding in against mine. Deeper. Longer. More. Breathing heavy.

He has his hips up in the air, keeping his body off me. I want to pull him down to me, feel his weight pushing me into the mattress. Feel how hard he is…because of me.

But then he reaches down between us and strokes between my legs some more, the wet noises so vulgar I’d blush if I weren’t already flushed from head to toe.

He pulls away, his expression strained, almost as if he’s in pain. Holding back.

Wood looks back and forth between my eyes and he doesn’t have to say anything. I know what he wants—one last confirmation, explicit permission.

I don’t say anything back, just push gently down on his shoulders. His little lopsided grin appears along with a devilish glint in his eyes, then he goes down.

He kisses just below my navel, softly, his hands gripped tightly on my hips. Then lower. His lips warm, tender. Lower still.

I’m holding my breath.

Wood slides his hands down my thighs and hooks them under my knees. He pushes them up and spreads my legs lewdly in front of him, making me gasp.

And then he dives down, burying his face, tongue hot against me.

He licks and kisses and licks some more. Slowly. Like he’s savoring a meal.

Each lick sends a wave of pleasure through my body. I’m dizzy with it.

He plays the tip of his tongue around my clit, circling, teasing. I’m drowning in need, gasping, whimpering, swallowing, unable to speak, wanting to beg. Desperate for more.

I twist my fingers in the bed sheets, eyes rolling back, breathing heavily, skin hot, an excruciatingly perfect tension building in my core. More, I still need more.

“Please,” I’m able to pant.

Wood closes his lips around my clit and starts sucking.

I wail so loud and unexpectedly, I immediately clamp my hand over my mouth to mute the sound.

Wood is looking directly up at me, still sucking, licking, sucking. His lips are glossy, coated in me. “Take your hand away. I want to hear you.”

I glance to the right, to where Spencer’s room is on the other side of the wall.

Wood smirks. “Let him hear what I’m doing to you.”

He licks again, sending shockwaves down to my toes and making my stomach tighten.

I move my hand away, gasping for air as he flicks the tip of his tongue against my pulsing clit.

“Will he know what he’s hearing?” he asks. “Does he even know what you sound like when you come?”

“No,” I whisper.

He grins, licks his lips, then goes back to eating me out, using his fingers this time to spread me apart, taste me up and down, in and out.

I close my eyes and let go. Throw my head back and let out every sound inside me without reservation. I don’t think, just feel.

His hands on me, fingers digging into my hips. Soft lips, wet tongue, hot breath. The sounds of him swallowing every few moments, drinking from me.

My tummy quivers as the pleasure coils there. Tight. Tighter.

It’s building, growing, the pressure, the ache. Every inch of me is throbbing. Too sensitive.

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