Page 529 of The Winslow Brothers

Remy doesn’t say anything else aloud, but let me tell you, he definitely fucking says something.

Diving forward, he closes his lips over the pink lace of my thin bra, and my back arches dramatically off the bed. I can’t even blame myself. At the very least, most women who birth a baby got it on approximately nine months ago. I mean, it’s kind of part of the process.

But me? I haven’t had sex in three years. Three. Years. I honestly can’t even let the thought sit in my head too long or it’ll make me pass out.

I’ve come pretty often thanks to my own pursuits, but the true nature of this partner activity has been lost on me for a while.

But I’m not lost now.

Holyshit, I’m not lost now. Remy knows how to make a woman feel found.

He moves carefully down my body to the button of my pants, undoing it with one hand while the other explores and caresses. His lips work over the skin of my stomach, and amazingly, I’m not feeling so self-conscious about it anymore.

Within a moment, my pants and panties are gone.

Remy’s hands skate down the sides of my body and down the length of my legs until they close around my ankles and squeeze. My heart jumps as he spreads my thighs gently, placing my calves on his shoulders and looking at me bared in all my glory. His eyes are hungry, powerful. I can hardly control the shake of my hands as he leans forward and swipes just one single lick up the center of my heat.

Sweet merciful everything, I don’t know if I’m going to survive this.

Because for as sweet and unassuming and helpful as Remy has been over the last week, he hasn’t lost any of his intensity. Even in the peek of his smile and the light in his eyes, there’s a darkness that lurks deep inside him. A side untapped, unchanneled, unchallenged. It’s the steely quiet of his past andthe abundant possibility of his future. He controls his destiny—that much is for sure. I just wish I weren’t starting to feel like I’d be okay if he controlled mine too.

“Remy,” I whisper, my whole body giving over to the feeling in one location.

The warmth and steady pressure of his tongue.

The soft certainty of his moves.

I can’t think about anything else.

My initial instinct is to close my thighs around his head—to squeeze him like a vise to assure myself that he can’t and won’t escape.

But as always, Remy knows better than me, moving my thighs apart with the soft push of his hands and challenging me with a look that could ruin women forever—strong, determined brow, twinkling blue eyes, and the most enchanting curve of his perfect, soft lips.

“Leave them open, Ria. Give me room to work.”

I nod then, feeling more confident in my ability now that I’ve been ordered to comply. I don’t have a whole lot of Dom/sub-style daydreams, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel really good to submit when the rest of your life is made up of decisions and responsibility.

Remy’s tongue strokes and prods, and my stomach tightens with all the tension that’s left the rest of my body. Languid and light, my limbs have given over to the feeling of nonexistence. I’m nothing but my clit right now—and the torturous rub of Remy’s perfect fingertips at the pinnacle of my G-spot.

My head lolls back and my eyes feel heavy, overcome with sensation. I reach out to gather a chunk of Remy’s perfect hair in my hand, and he hums a moan against me.

It feels like heaven—vibrating, pulsating, debilitating heaven.

“You taste so fucking good, Ria. I thought I’d forgotten, but now that I’ve felt you on my tongue again, I know I didn’t. Best fucking pussy on the planet.”

Okay, holy shit, that’s some Grade A dirty talk.

I have to admit, his level of skill in that arena has changed a little since our teenage days. He was good then, but he was just a boy. Now, he’s all man.

I don’t want to come like this, though, with Remy all the way down there. I want to come with him inside me, his face in my hands, his eyes staring into my own.

“Rem,” I murmur, the softness of my voice the only volume I’m able to manage. “I want you inside me.”

He sucks harder on my clit, pushing my back up off the bed and forcing my eyes to roll back. It’s all I can do to hold off the rolling wave of pleasure pulsing at the base of my spine.

“Remy!” I cry, just as he climbs up my body and covers mine with his. I don’t know how anything happens from that moment to the next, but before I can complain again, he’s inside me, a condom in place on his cock.

I can’t exactly see the protection from this angle, but I can feel it. And as much as I appreciate his care with safety, I fuckinghateit. Loathe that I can’t feel him skin-on-skin without the risk of conceiving a baby the traditional way.

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