Page 90 of When The Rain Falls

She rubs her hand along my hardened ridge, causing me to take in a sharp inhale as pleasure makes its way throughout my body. She traces me and when she gets to the head, my head tilts back in a groan. I curse the clothing that’s in the way.

“I want to milk your cock,” she pants. “Please?” Goddamn. I clench my jaw and hold firm.

“I didn't give you permission for that,” I remind her.

“Bear, can I?—”

“No,” I answer gruffly. I pull her hand away and there’s a flash of hurt across her face. I wonder if she thinks I put this rule in place because I’m an asshole. I hate the thought of her not knowing how thoroughly she’s shaken me. How deeply I wanther.But she must. I fucking told her I was thinking of Laurel.

“No, because I want to see you,” I explain, trying to smooth away the hurt. “I want to see all of you,” I tell her. I push off the bed and stand beside her. I slip her shorts down and then slide them off her smooth legs. She rubs her thighs together as I take in her sheer, mesh thong with ridiculously thin straps riding high on her hips.

“Inappropriate,” I growl.

“What? You don’t like these?” Aimee’s got one hand massaging a full breast and the other dipping just below the strap of her thong.

I think back to the night she paraded around in her ridiculous black dress. “You told me you had crotchless panties, Aimee.” My voice is deep and husky as sexual frustration grips and squeezes every muscle in my body. “So where are they?” I scold.

“I said I have crotchlessnighties. And I didn’t?—”

“I don’t care for excuses,” I grumble as I kneel between her legs. With this rule in place, I feel bold. “I have to fix this.” I bring my mouth between her legs and tease her clit gently over the mesh fabric. I use my lips and then my teeth. Aimee’s hands find my hair and she rocks her body against my face, begging for me. I take the fabric between in my mouth, her legs brushing against the side of my head, and gnaw on it. I grab one end and pull with my teeth. My effort is rewarded with a satisfying tearing sound.

Aimee gasps. “Did you really just?—”

She stops talking immediately when I lift the flap of torn fabric and take in her delicate, bare folds, pressing a kiss to her center. Aimee’s breathing grows raspy as I delve my tongue inside her. I feel her squirm as she guides my mouth to the perfect button of her clit. And it’s there, at that spot, where I’m going to worship her. As I take it in my mouth, I slip my finger into her. I’m tentative at first, to make sure she's ready. But she’s more than ready. She’s slippery, and slick, and so fucking wet.

I had forgotten all of this. Forgotten what it was like for someone’s body to beg for my touch. To plant a kiss between someone’s legs and have them bloom for me. Like I’m the rain, and the sun, and everything else they need to survive. And the feeling is intoxicating.

“Fuck. You like when I touch you like this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Aimee rasps. And Goddamn, that’s justonefinger. I have nine more. I add two more fingers and slip all the way in. What falls out of her mouth can only be described as a throaty, raspy song.

“You have to be quiet,” I remind her.

“That wasn’t one of your rules.” Her words fall softly between light pants.

“Aimee, you have to. Or I'm going to stop.”

I twist my fingers inside her, then slide them out slowly. I circle her opening again and Aimee's body seizes slightly. Slowly, I run my wet fingers across her thigh, leaving a trail of her desire across her skin. The sight of it, the sight of her open for me, wet, and eager, and needy. She’s a fucking vision. The woman who is all boldness and constant lip and defiance is now vulnerable. And she’s in my bed.

Goddamn. I don't know if I can do this. You'd think nine years of suffering would make me better at denying myself, but fuck, I don't think I can just have her partway. This is such a bad fucking idea. The only smart thing to do would be to stop right here. But I’m in too deep now. And I’m a category five idiot. An idiot for her.

Aimee claps a hand over her mouth as she stifles another moan. I bring her back into my mouth while she strokes my hair. The simple tenderness of her fingers casts a deep spell over me. I lick, and suck, and leave a handful of gentle bites. I watch the swell of her breasts frame her tipped chin. She’s so fucking tempting and I need to have her in every way that I can.

I heave myself up the bed and roll over beside her. “Baby,” I command, “get up here and ride my face.”

"Really?"

“Get up here,” I order again.

“Most guys don’t like it,” she says, rolling onto her side.

“I’m not one of your fucking Jacks,” I growl. But aren’t I? Aren’t I just like them? Playing fucking games and hiding like a coward? “Fuck them and get on my face,” I say one last time as I take her arms and bring her on top of me, clasping her hand and kissing the inside of her forearm. Her thighs shimmyup my chest around my shoulders. I settle beneath her and grab her ass. When I try to pull her to my mouth, she hesitates. She hovers just out of reach and throws me a sinful smile.

“Aimee…” My voice is gruff and needy.

She laughs and blushes.

“You like blushing, babe? I’ll give you something to blush about.” I squeeze her ass and pull her forcefully onto my mouth. Aimee’s laugh quickly transforms into a moan. Her fingers find my scalp as her hips drive against my face. Her body suddenly clenches around my head and her knees dig into my ears. I have to take myself in my hand and stroke to ease the pressure in my cock.

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