Page 49 of Playing With Fire
“Holy shit!” My back arches off the mattress as Hudson’s mouth makes contact.
Gregor doesn’t saytheword“pussy” let aloneeatit. I haven’t had a man’s mouth on me like this since my previous life.
As if his tongue weren’t doing a good enough job on its own, I feel Hudson’s finger enter me while his tongue continues its assault on my clit.
“Oh, God.” My hips start to buck against his face. Maybe I should be embarrassed. Maybe I should feel shame. But when he lets out a sinful moan and pushes his face deeper into me, all I feel is desire pooling low in my stomach.
He pulls his face from between my legs to watch my reaction to him.
“I’m so torn right now,” he rasps. “I want to watch you fall apart, but I also want to feel it on my tongue.” The strain in his voice almost sends me over the edge by itself. With his finger buried deep inside me, he brushes his thumb across my recentlyvacated clit like he’s still trying to prove how talented his fingers are.
Mission accomplished.
I see his hips moving even though he’s hanging off the mattress. I smile, realizing he’s so turned on he’s grinding his dick against the floor.
“You’d better choose fast,” I pant, right on the cusp of my release. He growls and puts his face back to my pussy and sucks on my clit this time, driving me over the edge at a hundred miles an hour.
I haven’t even floated back to Earth before I’m reaching for Hudson, but instead of letting me touch him, he laces our fingers together and kisses my knuckles.
“Do you need to take a minute and process that?” he asks.
“Do you?” I return.
“Probably, but I’m so fucking turned on right now I can’t see straight, let alone think straight.”
“Let me help you with that.”
There will be enough time for self-loathing later. Right now, I’m being driven by the need to watch the beautiful man in front of me come undone.
I unlace our fingers and roll to my side so I can push him down, effectively trading places with me on the mattress. He goes willingly, getting comfortable and resting the back of his head on his interlocked fingers. When he lays like that, it makes his biceps pop, and the tattoo on the inside of his left arm distracts me. It’s clearly a birthday and a date of death.
“Having second thoughts?” he asks as I hesitate.
“No. Just admiring your art.”
“I’ll tell you about him sometime, but now’s not the time for that story.”
I told Hudson I wanted to feel seen, but I’m the one whose eyes are being opened. Hudson isn’t just a sexy guy I desperatelywant to use to distract me from my failing marriage. He’s a human being with a story of his own. He has people he’s loved and lost, dreams and aspirations.
And I want to know it all.
The hardest part about all of this is the lack of a crystal ball. The realization I had on the phone with my mom is true: whether or not Hudson and I end up together, I know my marriage with Gregor is over. I’m certain it’s true because every time I think aboutnotwaking up next to Greg, my chest feels lighter. But the scary part is not knowing if Hudson will stick around through the shitstorm that’s about to head my way.
If I was stronger, I would tell him to keep his distance until Gregor and I were legally divorced, but in the state of North Carolina, that won’t be for at least a year and selfishly, I know I’ll need him through this ordeal.
I pepper kisses along Hudson’s chest, reveling in his strength and power. His defined muscles. The care he puts into staying in good health as well as good shape. My fingertips tremble as they slide down his torso, his shirt long forgotten on the kitchen floor.
Unable to maintain the distance from him any longer, I move back so I can lean forward and slide my tongue along the ridges of his abs. I follow the right side down until I make it to that glorious “V” that dips below the waistband of his pants as my hands start working frantically at the buckle. Unable to get everything off fast enough, Hudson lets out a low chuckle.
“You want some help there, baby? Since you know, I’m so good with my hands and all?”
Light hearted teasing during these intimate moments is foreign to me, and for a second, I bristle, wondering if I’m not doing it right or if he’s really making fun of me.
God, how far into my psyche have I let Greg crawl?
I must stop to think about this for a minute becausesuddenly, Hudson’s sitting up, calling me back to him. “Hey, Shannon, I was only kidding. There’s no rush. We can slow down.”
“I don’t want to slow down,” I confess. “I want you inside me.”
