Page 273 of Things Left Unsaid

I stare at her.

“Are you wet for me, Zee?”

A broken whimper and her tossing the jersey overhead is my answer.

Did I?—

“Was that a Korhonen jersey?” I rumble.

My jaw aches with how hard I clench it when she nods.

I can’t stop myself from snagging it and shoving it at her.

The flash of my name has me seeing red as she drags it back on.

One set of fingers slides between her knees, encouraging her to part her thighs.

She obeys. “Oh, God.”

“Tell me, Zee. Tell me what I’ll find when I touch you.”

“You can feel it for yourself.”

“No.” They slide higher, skipping her pussy, settling on her sit spot. “Tell me.”

“I ache,” she groans.

My other hand mimics its twin’s hold.

I lift her a few inches.

“Where, baby?”

“My p-pussy.”

“You need to come, or do you need me to fill you?”

That broken whimper morphs into a cry as her head tips back.

“Zee,” I warn.

Her throat bobs. “Both. Can’t I have both?”

Satisfied with that answer, I rub my lips over her inner knee, enjoying how she shivers at my touch. Her responsiveness will always light a fire in my veins.

Each caress has her reacting like I sucked on her clit. My tongue darts out and I find the tender skin behind the joint. Her hips buck and she moans long and low.

“God, what are you doing to me?” The words are thick. Heavy with want. Need.

“Do you want to feel my tongue on your clit?”

“Yes, fuck. Yes.”

“Do you want to come on my mouth?”

Her broken moan isn’t enough of an answer.

I tilt her ass forward and hover my lips above her clit.

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