Page 76 of We Were Something
“I’m glad you’re here,” I tell her, my words a whisper as I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “With me.”
My hand strokes her cheek, and she turns her head slightly, her eyes closing as she presses a kiss to the center of my palm.
Then I feel her hand against my chest, wrapping around my waist before slipping just slightly under my shirt and stroking my skin at the edge of my shorts.
I swallow, my heart beginning to race as my full attention zeroes in on just that one motion. That one swipe of her finger, over and over again.
“Kiss me,” she whispers.
At her request, I shift closer while tugging her forward at the same time, bringing the full length of our bodies flush with each other. And then I press my lips to hers.
Her mouth doesn’t open immediately like I’ve grown accustomed to. Instead, I have to coax her to open for me with small bites and nibbles and licks, my hands roving over her ass and lifting her leg over my hip.
When her tongue finally strokes into my mouth, the taste of her and the way her tongue flirts and dances against mine has my cock throbbing in my shorts.
“I love the way you make me feel,” she tells me, her hips shifting against me, moving just so, notching my hardness against the soft center of her then rolling again.
We both moan at the delicious pressure, at the feeling of being almost connected, but not just yet.
“Touch me, Logan.”
Her words are breathy and desperate, a plea I can’t help but answer, my hand shifting from her ass around to the front, stroking idly just below the waist of her shorts, along the edge of her panties.
“Here?” I ask.
“Lower,” she whispers.
I shift a little, my fingers stroking the soft skin just beneath the lace.
“Here?” I ask again, smiling slightly at the way her legs shift with frustration, her neediness growing by leaps and bounds with every passing second that I intentionally misunderstand her.
This time, her hand grabs my wrist and shoves my fingers down so I’m cupping her wet heat. I can’t help the groan that falls from my lips at the dampness I feel when one of my fingers slides through her pussy.
“I’m so wet,” she says, rolling her hips again, trying to encourage me to stroke through her lower lips again.
“You are,” I tell her, pulling my hand away.
Paige huffs at my active dismissal of what she wants.
But then she lets out a shriek of surprise when I roll her onto her back, my desire to learn to play with Paige giving me a kind of confidence boost I rarely experience in bed.
Without any kind of prep or prelude, I tug down her shorts and underwear, pressing my mouth against her core, the taste of her exploding on my tongue and the sound of her enjoyment in my ears.
She lets out a deep moan as my tongue strokes up the center of her slit, her hands moving to my hair and gripping the short strands as I circle her clit over and over again.
“Ohgod,Logan. Shit.”
Her hips rotate, and when I glance up at her face, I see her head thrown back, her eyes closed and her teeth nearly biting her lip off.
“Fingers,” she says. “Use your fingers.”
I bring my hand into the mix and slip my middle finger inside, searching for that spot that will send her over the edge. When I feel the spongy, soft space and graze my finger over it, Paige’s hips nearly fly off the bed.
“Is that it?” I ask her, groaning slightly when she nods, reveling in the way she can’t seem to handle the pleasure. “Is that the spot?”
She moans again, her fingernails scratching my scalp as I suck on her clit and shift my finger so I’m constantly stroking her in that same spot.
“Fuck,” she whispers, right before I feel the walls of her pussy clamp down like a vise around my fingers.
