Page 99 of Chasing Forever
And just like that, my breath catches.
He unclasps my bra, and I slide my arms out, taking it off and tossing it to the floor. Again, his eyes speak the words he doesn’t, and I’ve never felt more cherished or wanted in my life.
A pained groan leaves his lips. “You’re trying to kill me.”
“You’re the one with your pants still on,” I tease, hooking a finger into his waistband.
“I’m trying to savor this,” he murmurs, kissing a line down my throat. “You think I want to hurry? I’ve waited too long to have you. I plan on memorizing every single inch.”
“Is there a test I don’t know about?” I suck in a breath, threading my fingers through his hair.
“My own personal one. How many times can I make you scream my name for starters.” He lowers his head, lips brushing my jaw, then my neck.
“Show me, Sheriff. Hands-on demonstration only. I don’t hand out participation trophies.”
He chuckles into my neck. “Oh, I’m starting here.”
And then he moves lower, dragging my jeans down my legs along with my panties, his hands firm but gentle. I can feel the weight of this moment—the care in it, the gravity. My body hums with an ache I’ve never experienced before.
He kneels between my legs, running a hand along my inner thigh. “You should come with a warning label.”
I laugh. “Okay, I’ll play your game. What would it say?”
“High risk of addiction. No known cure.”
I cover my face with my hands, laughing. “Oh my god, you and your lines. Where did you hear that one?”
He lowers his chest to the mattress, spreading my thighs wider with his hand, and rests his chin on my stomach, staring up at me. “Come on, it was a good one.”
His mouth finds me without warning, and I cry out, my fingers instantly gripping the sheets. His tongue strokes through my folds with expert precision. He finds my clit with terrifying accuracy, circling and sucking until my hips lift off the mattress.
He moans against me, and the low and hungry sound nearly tips me over.
“You taste like heaven,” he murmurs, lips wet. “I might never be done down here.”
As if I’m not already clenching to make this last as long as possible, his fingers slide inside me, curling just the right amount, and stars fill my vision. Everything inside me coils tight, tension rising so fast I can’t catch up. My thighs shake, my breath stutters, and I come on a cry from somewhere deeper than my throat.
He kisses his way up my body, slow and unhurried, along my stomach, through the valley of my breasts until his mouth meets mine, and I taste myself on his tongue. I never used to be comfortable with this, but with him, it doesn’t bother me. If anything, I’m turned on.
“Still think I need a sex book?” he whispers, brushing my sweaty hair off my forehead.
“Cocky, much?”
“Do you know me at all?”
I laugh, breathless. “What else you got, Sheriff?”
He stretches past me and reaches into his nightstand drawer, returning with a condom.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, it’s my turn.” I sit up and inch closer to him.
“So is it my turn to grade you on performance?” He quirks his eyebrow.
I’ve never laughed this much during sex. Never had it be playful. I’ve clearly been missing out.
“I need you to stand.”
He scoots back off the bed. I climb off the bed and saunter over to him. His eyes follow my every step.
