Page 37 of Swim To Me

“Delilah…” I groan, hands tightening around the ladder of her ribs, while her lips press gently to my jaw.

She nips at me, a sly smile imprinting itself on my skin, soothing the sting with her little tongue and then moving an inch down my neck.

With impressive speed, Delilah finds that sensitive spot behind my left ear. I hear my breathing stutter out of me, my stomach muscles tightening instinctively, my spine tingling.

My cock aches when Delilah giggles in my ear at my reaction, this breathy sound I want to bottle up and keep.

“Cute birthmark,” she remarks into the base of my throat, nail lightly scratching the red butterfly-shaped blotch I was born with behind my ear.

I don’t answer, instead bowing my head to catch another taste of Delilah’s lips.

She’s fucking addictive.

Her hands thread themselves through mine over her ribcage, maybe to move them up to her breasts, to show me how she likes to be touched…

My head spins, but then Delilah’s peeling my hands off her curvy little body, slipping off my lap and sending me a smile.

“Bedroom?”

She phrases it as a question, but by the look on her face I can tell her mind is already made up.

With a silent nod I take her outstretched hand, unfolding my body from the sofa, and trailing behind Delilah as she leads me down the hallway and into her bedroom.

I’m barely in the doorway, and the scent of her is all over the place. It kicks my senses into overdrive.

I toe off my shoes, as Delilah’s body collides with mine, her small hands desperately reaching for the nape of my neck and yanking me down to her face.

She bites at my lower lip, dainty fingers wiggling their way between us to undo my button-down, while I fill my palms with the thick flesh of her arse – fulfilling a desire I’ve had since the first time I got a glimpse at the apple rounded, fucking biteable, portion of Delilah’s gorgeous body.

When my black shirt is being pushed from my shoulders, and I feel the skim of warm fingers against my bare lower stomach and happy trail, I shove my face into Delilah’s neck, hiding the shiver wracking my body.

“Where the hell is the zipper on this dress?” I mutter into her soft skin, nipping at her exposed collarbone.

Delilah sighs, running her palm through my hair and then grabbing at the strands, keeping me there for a second until I’ve sucked a red mark into her otherwise unblemished, creamy flesh. “There is no zipper, Grey. It unties at my neck.”

A groan escapes me, followed by theswishof satin fibres rubbing against other satin fibres once I find the bow at Delilah’s neck and pull.

Her dress unwraps easily, leaving Delilah standing before me, bare from the waist up, like a present.

Best fucking present I’ve ever received.

I cup the heavy weight of Delilah’s braless breasts, swiping the pad of my thumb over one hard nipple, while bending my head even further and taking her neglected nipple in between my front teeth.

“Grey!” She keens so sweetly, pressing her tits to my face until it’s hard for me to breathe.

Not that I give a shit. I’d happily die in this spot, right here, right now.

Swiping my tongue along the underside of Delilah’s breast, I smirk, a balloon of satisfaction forming in my stomach at the knowledge I’m the one doing this to her. I’m the one causing her to sigh and whine.

It’s all for me.

Her entire presence is for my fucking pleasure.

It’s driving me fucking crazy.

Not one to be outdone – I can’t say I’m surprised, being competitive appears to be practically written into her entire DNA – Delilah unbuttons my trousers with a flick of her wrist, shoving her hand down my waistband and squeezing my cock through my underwear.

She giggles again – that fucking edible sound – at my response, the way I tip my hips into her hand, instinctively searching for more friction.

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