Page 48 of When We Were Younger

Now? Now it's game fucking on.

I don't love the idea that Jay's messages basically meant he was playing pimp, but I'm willing to put that out of my mind and focus solely on getting my tongue all over that beautiful crease where her thigh ends, and her ass begins.

Behind the closed door of the guest room, I nearly swallow my tongue when she casually pulls her sweater overhead, revealing one of those lacy half bra things, the kind that pushes a woman's breasts up to her chin like glorious, proud round globes.

Or, more realistically, like delicious tits on a pretty pink half shell.

"Sorry we're stuck here for the night, but at least the bed is a queen, and we don't have to share with a sixty-pound golden retriever," she says as she pushes the door to the adjoining bathroom, presumably to start the forty-step skincare routine she does before bed that makes her look like an adorable glazed donut.

I take two long steps forward and loop an arm around her bare waist, pulling her flush against me and nestling my rock-hard erection right against her plumpass. She gasps as I push her hair off her shoulder and run my lips from her shoulder, over the side of her neck and to her earlobe, where I nip and suck.

"Mmm," I rumble as she presses her ass harder against me and grinds, slowly. "I like that. Big bed. Plenty of room for activities." I splay my hand across her belly, brushing my thumb right under the bra. I feel goosebumps start to form on her skin, and she reaches back, arching her back as she wraps her arms around my neck.

"Stephen," she whispers "we shouldn't. This isn't our house."

"That might be a little more convincing if you weren't wiggling that perfect ass all over me and soaking through your panties, sweetheart. Besides, sneaking around is hot. It's what we do best, isn't it?"

She closes her eyes and sighs as I move my hands up, cupping her tits through her bra and brushing my thumbs over her nipples.

"And how do you know that I'm wet?" she asks, another slow, tantalizing grind of her ass against my erection.

"Because I know you. I've touched you enough to know what turns you on."

"What turns me on?"

"You like it when I kiss you breathless. Kiss you like it's the only thing I've wanted to do for years. You like when I skim my hands over your skin. You like that they're just a little rough, just enough to light you up.You like when I go down on you. When I get my face between your thighs and devour you like you're the hottest thing I've ever tasted. And you love it when I fuck you. When I sink into you as deep as you can take me, holding you and stroking into you until you lose your mind with bliss. And you know that if you let me, I'll give you all of that and more right now, because I live for your pleasure. That's how I know you're wet for me, sweetheart."

Her breath stutters as she sinks back against me, writhing like she's trying to bury herself under my skin.

"You love being right, don't you?" she teases, and it's all the confirmation that I need. That, and her pretty little moans when my palms coast over skin. The sexy gasp she lets out when I cup her tits. I nearly lose my mind as I knead them in my hands, testing their weight and admiring her curves.

"Can you be quiet?" I ask. She looks at me over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

"Can you be quiet?" she challenges, and I smile. She's got a point. Something about this woman in my arms, the way she touches me, the way I feel when I'm with her. It makes me extra noisy.

"I'll be quiet, I promise. I'll be such a good boy for you Dorothea. Such a good boy if you let me touch you."

She spins and presses her lips to mine, soft but desperate at the same time. I part my lips and let her tongue meet mine, tangling and caressing. I let myhands wander, down her stomach, over her skirt and then under. I run my fingertips over that sexy as fuck crease, then find the silk of her garter straps, snapping each one in tandem. She gasps into my mouth, and I cup her ass, lifting her and lowering her onto the bed. I crawl over top of her, coming down to my forearms and hovering over her.

"Hey, Stephen," she whispers and smiles up at me.

"Hey, Dorothea," I brush a kiss against her cheek, then pull back to look at her a little longer. The room is lit only by a nightlight plugged into the far wall. Dorothea is cast in gold and shadows, her blonde hair fanned out on the pillow beneath her, breasts pushing at the lace of her bra, the pretty little diamond stud in her nose glistening when the light catches. The sight of her makes my throat go dry.

For a few seconds, neither of us says a word. We don't move. I don't think. I just look at her as she looks at me. The tension snags between us, the need for each other's bodies, and for me, the certainty that this woman beneath me is everything I will ever need.

"You," I whisper, moving down to place soft kisses on the hollow of her throat. "You. You. You."

I repeat the word like a prayer as I continue my path down, over one collarbone and then the other. She wiggles, freeing her shoulders from the constraints of her bra straps just as my lips reach the cleft of her breasts. I flip one of the cups down and pull her pebbled nipple into my mouth. She groans loudly, and my hand flies up to cover her mouth. I want herpleasure, every ounce of it, but I'm a selfish man. I want it all for me, no one else gets to hear my sweet girl moan. I move to her other breast, pushing down the cup and showing it the same attention with my tongue and my teeth, and all the while she wriggles beneath me.

She arches up into me, giving me room to settle between her legs as my lips continue their journey south. I dip my tongue into her navel, and she squirms. I push up her skirt, revealing a black lacy thong and the garter straps that have been toying with my head since we got to this room.

"These things," I say as I toy with one of them, running it through my fingers. "You wore these to kill me, didn't you?"

"Death by lingerie?" she taunts, and I groan.

"Death by Dorothea," I correct as I snap the strap, mesmerized by the way her thigh lightly jiggles with the sting. I press my thumb to the wet panel of her panties, lightly applying pressure to her pretty, swollen clit through the lace.

"Stephen," she sighs softly, and I nearly come in pants. With my free hand, I squeeze my dick through my jeans, trying to stave off some of the intensity I feel just hearing my name on her lips. "Stephen, I need you. I'm so… god. I'm so ready, please."

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