Page 153 of A Little Complicated

Fucking hell. She has no idea how often I dream of this. I drop my head back, staring at the swirling sky as I thread my fingers through her hair. Wet heat wraps around the head of my cock, and I close my eyes, lost in the feel of her mouth on me. I missed this. Ophelia. Her mouth. Her sass. Her silky hair. The little mewls she makes. The way she smiles. We were only apart for a little while, but it felt like a lifetime. Fuck, even before. Ever since my diagnosis, I’ve been holding back. Pretending I’m not obsessed with the girl in front of me in hopes of protecting her. But with everything out in the open, I feel like I can finally breathe.

My heart pounds in my chest harder and harder as I let her take the lead, sucking me off like a good girl. She takes me deeper, moaning softly. The vibration is almost more than I can bear. When I touch the back of her throat, her hands squeeze the base of my dick, and my balls tighten.

“You trying to kill me, Goose?” I rasp.

She looks up at me but doesn’t stop swallowing my cock. Her head bobs up and down while her hand slides from the base of my dick to my balls. Driving me to the brink of insanity, she massages them, tugging gently and rolling them in her palm.

I tilt my head, studying her. “Youaretrying to kill me.”

She slips back and smiles against the head, swirling her tongue around the tip, her eyes never leaving mine.

“It’s working,” I note. Her hair is like silk as I tangle my fingers in it, tugging tenderly.

Hollowing her cheeks, she sucks me harder, releases me with a soft pop, and gets right back to work on my erection.

“But what a way to go,” I grunt. I brush my thumb against her wet lips while she continues rubbing her hand up and down my length, resting the head of my cock against her cheek as if she knows the image of her on her knees with those swollen lips will be branded into my memory for the rest of my measly existence.

But I don’t want to come down her throat. Not yet. Not today. I want to savor this. Savor her. Commit it all to memory. Every touch. Every whimper. Every fucking kiss.

And even though it kills me, I slowly slide onto my knees beside her, and she stretches out, laying back and resting her weight on her elbows as she looks up at me.

“Ah, so the man doesn’t want my mouth anymore,” she quips.

“Oh, I want your mouth.” I crawl over her body, caging her in on both sides and capturing her lips with mine. I kiss her deeply, swallowing her soft moan and rubbing my bare cock against her center while my jeans hang around my ankles. Her damp underwear separates us, but the heat from her core seeps into me, and I drop my forehead to hers.

She has no idea how many times I’ve imagined this. Being with her again. Without any secrets. Without the questioning look in her eyes I put there the moment I broke up with her.

It’s as if the last of our barriers have finally been broken down, leaving nothing but Ophelia Grace Taylor and Maverick Bud Buchanan. Only us in this moment. And if impending death has taught me anything, it’s to grab hold of it with both hands.

I kiss Ophelia again, flicking my tongue along hers as my cock jerks against her core. Precum drips from the head, and I have no doubt it’ll probably leave a wet spot on her underwear, but the idea only makes me harder. I want to mark her. Make her mine so no one ever questions who she belongs to, even if it’s only for a little while.

“You’re fucking perfect,” I rasp. “You know that, right?”

She smiles against my lips. “Ditto.”

I grind into her again, the heat from her pussy making my cock ache against her. “Do you have any idea how wet you are, baby?”

She squirms beneath me. “I think I have an idea.”

My bare length rubs against her center as I shift my hips into her, causing her eyes to roll back and my own to become heavy with pleasure.

“Fuck, you have no idea how good you feel, and I’m not even inside you.” Chuckling, I torture us both with one more roll of my hips, kissing the edge of her mouth and scooting lower. Her shirt has already ridden up, giving me a glimpse of her toned stomach, but I push it the rest of the way off and palm her breasts in my hands.

“Fucking perfect,” I growl.

“You said that already.” She laughs and lets her thighs fall open. The damp spot at her core teases me, confirming my suspicion while her eyes shine with mirth as she bites her bottom lip.

“Doesn’t make it less true,” I mutter.

Dragging her fingertips along my spine, she murmurs, “I think it’s time for another game of Truth or Dare.”

My attention snaps from the scrap of cloth covering her to her eyes. “Right now?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“No offense, baby, but I think we’re a little busy.”

“And I think I’ll make it worth your while,” she replies. “Besides. You want to make this last, right?”

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