Page 46 of Fighting

These are the only words I know now. “Holy shit.” That’s it. And longing stares. I’ve got those down.

I kneel before her and run my hands along the soft leather of her boots.

Before I can yank the zipper open, she scoffs and parts her legs wider. “If you’re just going to stare…” She props her heel on my shoulder, letting her knee fall wide to expose her trimmed dark blond curls.

Letting out a long exhale, I place my trembling hands on her knees.

“So wet for me,” I murmur, dragging my thumbs along the soft skin of her thighs.

All that separates us now is the most insignificant fragment of space. Despite my longing to dive in, I use every bit of my willpower I possess to hold back. One word from her, and I’ll touch her where she’s dripping for me.

The longer I wait, the deeper her heel digs into my muscles, causing me to moan.

“You like that?” she asks, pressing harder.

I let another soft sound of appreciation escape my lips and am rewarded with her confident, throaty laugh.

“Are you going to tell me that you’re waiting for me to touch, lick, and kiss this beautiful pink pussy?” I grit out, still gently caressing her legs. “Are you going to demand I make you come, twice, before even thinking of myself? I bet you’ll go with threetimes once you find out that pendant around your neck is more than a?—”

“Oh, I know,” she interjects with a bit of mischief in her eyes.

“Tell me what you want. I don’t like watching you deny yourself.” I slide closer to her heat, teasing her but waiting for her command.

I kiss the inside of her left knee and drag my lips up, up, up. But before I give her what she wants, I pull back and do the same on the other side. I repeat this, getting a bit closer each time.

Eventually, I straighten and smirk down at her.

“If you can’t tell me what you want, then I guess I’ll just head to bed. Good night, Nessa.” With a wink, I release her, then stroll toward my bedroom.

I’m going to ensure that she’s clear and direct with her desires.

Stopping, I turn and repeat her words from the podcast episode. “Are you embarrassed to discuss your needs with your partner, Dr. Rabin?”

She leans forward until her breasts nearly spill out of the cups, unzips the boots, and pads after me, her feet bare.

“Not in the slightest,” she says casually as she passes me.

I give her a moment before following her into my bedroom.

Nessa is a vision in pink. The bedside lamp is on, emitting a soft glow, but otherwise, the room is dark. She’s in the center of my bed—on my new mattress and sheets—sitting on her knees. Her long, shiny blond hair flows over her shoulders and curls around her breasts, and her kiss-swollen lips shimmer.

Nessa is sultry, powerful, and confident. All of my favorite things.

Resting a forearm on the doorframe, I wait for her command. My gray sweats leave nothing to hide, so she knows how badly I want her too.

Heart squeezing, I ask, “Who’s calling the shots, Ivy? I can take the lead or follow yours. But if you don’t pick soon, then I’ll choose for you, and you’ll be forced to listen to me begging you to ride my face until you’re screaming my name.”

She swallows audibly, her throat bobbing, then croaks, “Beg me.”

Growing bolder, she traces her hands up and down her thighs, her long, thin fingers leaving goose bumps in their wake.

I want to beg, but I’m frozen, watching her lithe movements. I want to watch her. I want to interrupt and give her all she could ever need.

In my stillness, she’s reached the hem of her skirt, lifting it to tease her clit with one hand while she massages her barely contained breast with the other. She sways in rhythm with a song only she hears. “Beg for permission to eat this magnificent pussy.”

These words do me in, and the memory of our night together—and her admission that nobody had focused on her pleasure—crashes into me.

“Fucking hell.” I blow out a breath and enter the room.

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