Page 53 of Defending her Heart

He doesn’t need to tell me. I can hear my juices as he pushes his finger in and out of me. Ew. Juices. I’ve never used that word before, and if I heard it used to describe my desire, I’d cringe. But there’s nothing cringy about what Nash is doing to my nipples and to my pussy.

“I need to taste you.” Five of the sexiest words I’ve ever heard from Nash’s mouth. And now that mouth is going to be on me.

“Yes. Please.” I lift my hips and help him push down my panties and jeans. I kick them and my low-cut booties off when they’re at my ankles.

Nash releases my nipple and drags his tongue down my stomach, circling my belly button before moving farther south. He grips my thighs with both hands and parts my legs. I arch my back, trying to get closer to him, but he keeps his face inches from me, not yet touching.

I hear his deep, labored breathing, as if he’s trying to restrain himself. He’s holding back.

“I thought you wanted to lose control,” I taunt.

He snaps his eyes to mine and slowly lowers himself between my legs. I can feel his breath on my pussy and he gives me a slow grin. “Ladies first.”

While his finger slowly moves in and out of me, his tongue laps my clit.

“Oh, God. Nash!” I grip his hair and shove his face harder into me. I can feel him...laugh? Growl? Moan? The vibration sets me off.

He quickens his pace and adds a second finger, stretching me until I’m deliriously full. Nash devours my clit, then hooks his finger inside me and rubs. Tingles and sparks shoot through my body. I squeeze my eyes shut and tilt my head back.

“Yes. Right there. Fuck.”

“Look at me, Kendall.”

My eyes snap open and I stare at the big, hulking, gorgeous Nash between my legs. Our eyes lock and he presses his tongue harder against my clit.

My stomach tightens, my legs stiffen as desire spreads everywhere. “Nash. I’m going to—”

He sucks my clit, and I explode. He uses his free hand to hold my hips down on the bed as I convulse like I’m being electrocuted. My body shakes, spasms, releases months and months of pent-up energy as I come all over his fingers and mouth.

I’m panting breathlessly as Nash sits up. Then he does the most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed. He licks his fingers like he’s just finished eating the most delicious meal. His tongue wipes his bottom lip, and aftershocks ripple through my body.

“You still have all your clothes on.” It’s a stupid thing to say but the only thing I can think of as I lay here naked and vulnerable. Naked, I don’t mind. Vulnerable, not a fan.

“And you were supposed to control your volume.”

I start to sit up in panic. “Did I wake Paisley?” I glance to the door then notice Nash’s sinful smirk. “I wasn’t that loud.”

“You sounded like you were choking. Gasping for air.”

“I was. Gasping, that is. Now I’m wondering if you have performance anxiety, or if your pee pee is so small you’re worried if you’ll be able to get me to that second orgasm you promised.”

For a brief moment, I worry I crossed the line. What if the reason he hasn’t had sex in so long is because of performance anxiety? Maybe he had a bad experience and that made him go monk status.

The pencil dick joke is irrelevant since I felt the size of his package and have seen the hardened state of it pressed against his joggers and his jeans. He’s packing serious heat so there’s no way he’s nervous about what his dick looks like.

Nash scoots closer so his knees cage my legs in and presses me back against the bed. He hovers over me and grinds his dick into my stomach. “You didn’t just refer to my cock as apee pee, did you?”

“Maybe?” I bite back my grin.

“If that’s what you’re used to, my cock is totally going to wreck your virgin pussy.”

And suddenly I’m feeling quite virginal again.

“Give it your best shot, Nash Potato.”

He glares at me before whipping his shirt off.Fuuuuuuuuck.My quick glimpse of him shirtless in his kitchen didn’t prepare me for the up close and personal muscles. I thought his body was deliciously beautiful stretching his t-shirts, but this? This is pure art.

I reach up and trace my finger around his pecs, then glide them along his shoulders and down the peaks of his biceps. He’s hard and big. Everywhere. Like ev-ry-where. My fingers glide down to the ridges of his abs.

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