Page 64 of So Close

That made her mouth so dry and her whole body go soft. Or maybe it was the sensation of his tongue, circling toward her nipple, spiraling, teasing. As if he sensed the weakening of her knees, he slipped a hand behind her and drew her toward him, his tongue finally finding the sensitive tip.

She cried out.

He groaned like she’d hurt him and seemed to lose control then. He ducked his head and took her nipple, and the suckling sensation dove all the way to her core.

“There’s a zipper—”

He found the zipper at the back of her dress and the silky fabric dropped to the floor around her ankles. He stepped back and looked at her. “Jesus, Auburn, you’re so beautiful.”

Then he picked her up again and deposited her on the edge of the bed. He knelt on the floor, reached for her hips, and tugged her close.

“These are pretty,” he said, teasing a finger over the pale green lace of her panties. He bent and kissed her where he’d just touched her, breathing her deeply. “Mmm,” he said. “You smell so fucking good.”

She could feel the wetness gathering for him, and she wanted to tell him, but she was breathless and wordless. He breathed her again, then buried his nose right up against her and blew warm air onto her damp flesh. Then he licked her right through her panties, and she thought she was going to scream. She wriggled, trying to get herself closer to the heat of his breath and the caress of his tongue, but he pinned her hips and she couldn’t move. He held her there, his face just a few inches from her. Then he pulled back to look at her face.

“I know I came off like an asshole,” he said. “That first night. I should have just told you the truth. That I saw you kneel and help that waitress and I thought,That’s a good person.”

He was going to take her apart. Seam by seam, molecule by molecule. He was going to make it impossible for her to hang onto herself. And she was going to let him.

“You thought that?” How would things had been different if she had known, that first night, that he had seen her that way?

His mind must have been chasing along similar pathways, because he asked, “What if I hadn’t fought you? What if I’d just agreed to sell you Beachcrest when you first asked?”

“You wouldn’t have. You couldn’t. I didn’t have the money, and you have to save your company. And at that moment, you couldn’t see any other way.”

“I was a stubborn asshole and I wanted to fight you because you weren’t letting me have my way.”

She smiled at that. “I’ll grant you that, but … If you’d just said, ‘You want to buy Beachcrest? Sure. Okay,’ then—well, I don’t know what would have happened, but it wouldn’t be this.”

And it seemed unimaginable and insupportable that they would not be here. That they would not have spent the last few days coaxing each other into the open like soft-bodied sea creatures from shells, cultivating the tautwantingthat ran all the way down the length of her body, that strained towards him.

As if he felt it too, he bent and kissed her, all along where lace met her skin. He tugged her panties to one side and stroked a finger down the length of her seam, practically making her jump off the bed. “You like that?”

“So much. Do it again.”

It was his turn to groan. Then he did exactly what she’d asked. He stroked his finger down the length again, then up, bringing her wetness up to her clit and circling it, so lightly, but enough that she bucked. Then he bent and repeated the motion with his tongue, and … “Ohhhh,” she moaned.

“Is it good?” He bent and did it again, a long lick and then a tight circle. A few more circles until her clit was swollen and eager. He wiggled it with the tip of his tongue until she couldn’t stop the tilt of her hips. And then he buried his face in her and kissed her relentlessly while the pressure mounted and her muscles clenched helplessly.

She was going to come—but just as she could feel the point of no return looming, he drew away, stripped his shorts and t-shirt off, and crawled up over her, dragging his erection over her now-slick pussy. She groaned and tried to rub against him, but he kept himself just out of reach. The hard muscle of his abs, his hip bone, his erection through his boxer briefs, his thigh—he wouldn’t let her have anything she could get purchase on.

“Bastard,” she whispered.

“You know it.” He laughed wickedly and bent his head to tease a nipple with his lips. His tongue. He sucked it into his mouth, tortured it between his teeth, flicked it until she could feel the trail of electric messages drawing tight between her breast and her core. If he kept it up, she would come—

So, of course, he stopped.

He kissed her mouth, long, hot, slick kisses, so deep and sweet it felt like she was suckling his mouth, and each of those kisses felt like a crank tightening in her low belly. And then he took that away, too, and just braced himself over her. Let her look at his pecs, tight with the effort of suspending himself, his broad shoulders striped with muscle, his bulging biceps and curved triceps, and the lean, mean sinewy gorgeousness of his forearms, furred with golden half-curls. He held himself off her body so she could feel the breeze of his cock moving between her legs but not the thick contact itself, and …“Trey.”

“What?”

“Please. Please, please, please, please,please.”

He smiled. “Pleasewhat?”

“Please put your cock inside me.”

He stood up, a slow and leisurely stretch. Eased his boxer briefs down over the swollen head of his cock like he had all the time in the world, while she panted on the bed. She would probably kill him later, but right now she was too beside herself to organize a murder. She just wanted him to satisfy her craving, fill the emptiness that had bloomed and swelled in her pussy and belly.

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