Page 61 of The Art of Catching Feelings

“Mmm,” she said, pressing the vibrator against herself with more pressure, canting to the side to get a better angle. She hit a spot that she knew she had to back off from, or she’d definitely be done for.

He’d started stroking himself, and the sight of him doingthat, his focused attention on her…it was better than any fantasy she ever could’ve had. But suddenly she didn’t want him so far away.

“Come here,” she said.

He slid onto the bed next to her, and she put her hand over his on the vibrator, guiding it exactly where she wanted it. “Oh, fuck,” she said. “Right there.”

“You like that?”

She tried to sayyes, but it came out more like a whimper, and then he was holding her calf, pressing against her leg while he kept the head of the vibrator pulsing against her clit.

You have to be quiet—but I don’t.She’d thought about him saying that on the phone so many times. She’d thought about what he would’ve said, if she’d let him talk. She didn’t want to think about it now, didn’t want to let the Duckie memories interfere, but it was impossible. It was all wrapped up together in her mind.

He took the vibrator away for a second, and she gave a frustrated sound that made him squeeze her calf, pull her toward him until he’d slung her leg over his shoulder, his hand sliding farther up her thigh.

“You have to let me worship you alittle,” he said, rubbing his thumb over her clit. She felt like every nerve ending down there was still buzzing from the vibrator, and the pressure of his touch almost sent her over the edge.

“Not yet,” he said, sliding a finger inside her. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

It wasn’t long before he was using two fingers, then three, as he stroked her in slow, almostmaddeninglyslow, movements of his hand. Just when she thought she’d die if she didn’t come, he reached around with the vibrator, his other hand still inside her as he pressed the buzzing sex toy to her clit. She tried to hold back, but she couldn’t, and a ragged moan tore out of her throat as the wave that had been washing down her spine crested and broke, and she trembled and spasmed against him.

“That’s it,” he said, his breath hot on her ear. “Come for me, baby. Good girl. Come hard for me.”

She felt like she was still coming, that heat in her body still sending off new sparks, but eventually she was able to get her breath back. He’d turned off the vibrator and stowed it next to the bed, and for a minute they just lay like that, him propped over her on his elbows, her holding on to his biceps and staring up into his hazel eyes and knowing that she didn’t want to let him go, not just yet.

“Do you have a condom?” she asked.

“In my wallet,” he said. “But do you—”

She didn’t need rest. She didn’t need to stop and think. Her body felt languid and golden and beautiful, and she wanted to live in the feeling as long as possible. She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “Go get it.”

Daphne barely had time to miss his body heat before he was back in the bed, his hard cock sheathed in a condom.

“Let me make sure you’re ready first,” he said against her mouth, kissing her as he slipped a finger inside her body. She was so wet, she could feel it—that heat, that easy slide. He had to know she would be, but he didn’t seem to mind the excuse to touch her one more time.

And then he was pushing into her with his cock, filling her up inch by agonizing inch, until she couldn’t stand it. She slanted her hips, wanting to take him deeper, faster.

“I can take it,” she said. “Please.”

He let out a harsh breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “Ican’t,” he said. “Give me just a second. You feel so fucking good, Dee.”

She didn’t know if he was aware of it, the way he’d just shortened her name. She liked it. She liked it so much that she wrappedher legs around his strong thighs, rocking him against her until she could feel that he was all the way inside. And then she clenched those inner muscles, squeezing around him until he let out a hiss.

“That’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” He retreated enough that she felt bereft, but only for a moment, before he drove into her again and again, clutching her to him as he fucked her the way she’d asked to be fucked at the very beginning. That thin gold chain he always wore dangled down between them, and even that got her hot, the way it sometimes slapped against her chin as he moved inside her. She clung to his back, her fingers digging into the bunched muscles there in a way she knew would probably leave marks, but she didn’t care. She hoped they would.

“Now I want you to come forme,” she said, and that was all it took. Chris bit out a final curse as his body shuddered in her arms, and then his weight was heavy and hot on her as they lay still entwined, panting together.

Why did this part feel more intimate? Even after all that they’d done before? They were both covered in a sheen of sweat, her breasts flattened against his chest, and she was so close to his face she felt like she could count every individual eyelash. It wasn’t fair, how long his eyelashes were. Chris Kepler as a physical specimen wasn’t fair.

He seemed to be taking her in the same way, looking down at where their bodies were still pressed together, then glancing back up at her. She could’ve sworn she saw a streak of pink across his cheekbones, almost like he was blushing.

“I wondered,” he said. “How far the freckles went.”

Daphne looked down at her own body, which, yes, was covered in freckles. They were more faded and spaced out the more she got to the areas covered by a bikini, but they were still there.

“I could only see to right about”—he traced the tops of herbreasts with one finger, stopping at a point a couple inches above one nipple—“here.”

“You’re still inside me,” she whispered.And getting hard again.

---