Page 79 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
“Move your hair.”
With a smile, she does. Then awaits her next command.
“Take off your bra.”
“How? One strap at a time or unclip from the back?”
“One strap at a time,” I say, letting my hand go to my crotch.
Rynn lets one strap fall to expose a bare shoulder until she sees me touching myself. “Oh, no. None of that. You have to wait.”
“Rynnlee.”
“Be patient,” she says, as the other strap slips off.
Time ceases to exist. With a quick flick of her wrist, the rest of the fabric falls to the floor. The perfect mounds of her breasts are mouthwatering. My entire body wants to surge forward.
“Stay,” she commands.
My breath comes fast, heavy. Muscles tighten. My cock pulses and twitches with a mind of its own. Heart thrashing. I’m partially aware of clenching my fists, then releasing. Clench. Release.
I bite my bottom lip and drink in the sight of her. “You better yank those pants off now.”
She holds up one finger to silence me, then slowly reclines, lying flat on her back on the counter. Her leggings shimmy off one leg at a time until one piece of slippery silk remains.
I’m unable to hold back any longer. Flat on her back, she’s a treasure to behold, a piece of artwork. I trail over the edges of her tattoo with a delicate touch. Following it from her collarbone all the way to where it stretches under her breast and down her stomach to her panties.
“I’m taking these off.”
“Yes, you are,” she says with a laugh, since I’ve already started tugging them down.
Since I’m between her spread legs, and I’m unwilling to move away, I have to rip the fabric. “I’ll buy you new ones.”
“Size medium, black, seamless, high rise.” She smiles, laying nude and vulnerable while I’m still fully dressed. “Go ahead, take me, Lias. I’m yours.”
I may hyperventilate. I may burst out of my skin. So much tension coils and throbs in my groin that I may pass out here and now.
Ghosting my knuckles up her inner thighs, I watch her face change from playful to sinful. Her lips part as I move closer to her center and trust exudes from her eyes. She’s so soft, so smooth and warm. The higher I go, the more heat radiates from her.
“Want to touch you, Sunflower. Do you want to be tied?”
As she watches my hand move between her legs, her breasts rise and fall fast with each breath, “Ooohh.”
First, I swipe a finger against her clit to satisfy my need to hear her moan again. She does, so sweetly, like a song. But her body is too tense and rigid.
“Relax, babe, I got you.”
My fingers explore her upper thighs, her folds, the wetness seeping out onto my hand. The sight of my hand on her skin is so arousing I can’t handle it.
“Please,” she whispers.
Happy to oblige, I slowly insert one finger. Holy tightness, she’s going to break me. So wet. All mine. The scent of her in glued into my brain. I move and swirl my finger inside her until her hands clamp against the counter’s edge. This memory needs to be filed away for the rest of my life.
“No, no, no, this won’t work,” I say, sliding my finger out and immediately regretting it.
“Wh-what? Why? Keep going,” she begs, eyes dark and lusty.
“You’re going on the bed. Come on, sit up.”
