Page 127 of The Perfect Love

“Are you good?” he asks, that low-level concern on his face.

I rest my palm on his cheek, ready to ease his mind. But my mouth must be feeling cheeky because it goes rogue.

“I’ll be better when you’re touching me.”

A predatory smile appears on his face and he runs a hand down my side. “How do you want me to take care of you?”

“With your hand.”

He kisses across my chest. “Can I still use my lips here?”

“Ye-es,” I hiss, then his tongue flicks over one of my nipples.

“Good. Because these are my new favorite toys, and I really want to play with them.” Then his mouth and hands are all over my breasts. Squeezing them, licking and tweaking my nipples. Not surprising. Since we first got off together, he’s been obsessed with my boobs, and he’s right—he plays with them like they’re his toys any chance he gets.

I bite back a moan. Damn, he’s good at it. He drives me crazy in the best way, and I’m practically riding the mattress. The throbbing spot between my legs is in desperate need of attention, and when Trevor catches the way I shift, he pulls back, his gaze sweeping over me.

“Open those legs for me, baby. I want to see that pretty pussy.”

I almost shudder at the words. I was raised to see all bodies as beautiful, and my grandmother actively worked to undo all the toxic diet culture shit society puts on women. Because of that, I grew up confident in my body. Still, you always want the person you’re with to see you as attractive too. Trevor looking at me hungrily, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen makes me feel wanted. Worshipped.

Then he sucks in a sharp breath and bites his bottom lip.

“Goddamn, baby. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you splayed out on this bed for me. Except maybe seeing you come.” He lies down next to me and runs his hand down my stomach. “Now I’ll get to see both.” His lips graze mine. “Tell me if you get uncomfortable, want me to stop, or want me to change anything, okay?”

I nod so quickly it’s almost frantic. “I will.”

Then I bite my lip to keep from begging.Please touch me.

“What are you comfortable with? You want me to just rub your clit?” One finger barely grazes that swollen, sensitive spot, and Ihiss in response. “Or do you want my fingers inside you?” Two fingers trail lower, but he waits for my answer.

I throw my head back, overwhelmed and needy. “Both. Please. Just touch me. I need you.”

His lips close around one of my nipples, then he circles those two fingers around my opening. When he finally pushes inside, I gasp, but then his thumb lands on my clit, and I fist the sheets, already coming apart at the seams for him.

“Yes. More. Fuck me with your fingers.”

He flicks his tongue over my nipple, then moves to the other one, before pulling his fingers almost all the way out and pushing them back in. He picks up the pace achingly slowly, teasing and flicking at my clit as he does.

I’m going insane, skin prickling, absolutely fucking desperate for this man. He touches me like I’m an extension of him. Like he knows exactly what I want without me saying it.

My skin heats as desire builds inside me. I’m overwhelmed, but I need more.

A moan falls from my lips, and though I try and make words to tell him what I want, my brain is too swamped with lust. But he knows anyway. He curves his fingers inside me and I cry out.

“Yes,” I whine. “More.”

My mind goes blank. I’m burning up, a volcano ready to erupt.

“So close.”

He looks up at me in awe.

“Come for me, baby. I want to see your beautiful body writhing.”

My stomach tightens, and I clench the sheets.

“Trevor…”

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