Page 62 of We'll Meet Again

She nodded. “Want them there. Wanna grind on them.”

The thought of her using him to get off had him reeling. He pushed his leg right up against her, rocking as he sucked on one of her perky nipples. Her chest was as flushed as her face. She arched her back and choked out a moan, the friction warming her up between her thighs.

“Tell me more,” he said softly. “What next, baby?”

“Take these bloody joggers off.”

“Yours or mine?” he asked with a grin.

“Mine first.”

“You got it.”

He hooked a finger into the waistband of her pants and tugged them off, tossing them over the back of the couch. Her legs fell slowly apart, letting him see the dark, wet spot on her panties. Knowing he’d gotten her so worked up made him even harder; it almost felt painful now, but he wanted more from her before he took care of himself. He ran a slow hand up her perfect thigh.

“Take these off too,” she said, toying with the lace top of her underwear. “Want your mouth there now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She grinned at that, and he readily obeyed. God, she was exquisite. Holding her gaze, he bent down, lining his mouth up with her pussy. He licked her slowly, reverently, worshiping her as if it was an altar between her thighs. Those thighs he hadn’t stopped thinking about since the first time he saw them in those boots she wore. Now they quivered on either side of his head as he worked her clit with his tongue. She writhed beneath him, moaning, her breath catching.

“Fuck…” she whined. “Don’t stop.”

Stopping was the last thing on his mind; he never wanted to leave this space right here, feeling her warmth around him, tasting her. To show her that, he hummed against her, and her breath hitched in her throat. Her hand flew to his head, lacing her fingers in his hair and pulling him even further into her.

He knew she was getting close as her legs began to tremble against the couch cushions and her grip on his hair tightened. Her breathy whines went up an octave with every exhale. She couldn’t keep her hips still, so he had to hold them in place. Her head fell back, and finally, with a hoarse cry of his name, she came undone.

Her hips swayed gently as he coaxed her down from her high. In fact, he didn’t actually remove his mouth until she tugged on his hair and pulled him up for a searing, fiery kiss. She moaned into his mouth, which made him all the more eager to be inside of her, but he wouldn’t go there until explicitly asked. And for the moment, he was content with her lips. He could have kissed her right there on the couch for the rest of his life and been happy. But she broke away to catch her breath.

“So good…” she sighed. “Fuck, Ethan…”

“You want more?” he asked.

She nodded. “Please.”

“How do you want it?”

“Want your fingers.”

“Yeah?”

She took his hand and brought it right to her mouth, slipping his first two fingers between her lips. Somehow, it felt more erotic than if she’d just reached for his dick. When his fingers were properly coated, she put his hand between her legs herself. He bit back a groan.

“Damn, baby,” he sighed. “You’re wet enough as it is.”

It was true. Her cunt was soaking. He sank two fingers inside easily, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing soft, slow circles on it. He crooked his fingers toward himself inside her, prodding until he found her g-spot. He knew he had when her hands clapped around his biceps and she cried out, “Right there!”

“Tell me how it feels, darlin’.”

Ethan always thrived on feedback. He needed to know he was doing the right thing, whether he was on the pitch or in the bedroom. But especially with Billie, he wanted to hear how it was for her. He needed to be sure he was doing enough to please her.

“So good, babe,” she panted, rocking against his hand. “Fuck, it feels so good. I need you to make me come again.”

“Wanna come on my fingers?” he teased.

She nodded, her breath stuttering when he picked up the pace on her clit. He worked her up with that consistent pace, watching the rise and fall of her chest, and the way her back came up off the couch when it was especially good.

He had seen a number of beautiful sunsets. And breathtaking mountains. Flowers and beaches all over the world. None of it compared to the vision beneath him. Billie having an orgasm was the most stunning thing he had ever witnessed. He watched her as if she were in slow motion - the steady rhythm of her body, her sweet mouth as she chewed her bottom lip, the way her hair careened over her shoulders. She was a goddess, a work of art, a force of nature, and he was just counting his blessings at being allowed to be a witness. And proud he was the one to draw it from her.

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