Page 72 of The Trust We Broke
If I were more certain that she wasn’t going to freak out and leave, I’d take the time to light the fire that sits in the corner. But as it is, I feel like I can’t take my hands off her for more than a second.
The button on her trousers pops easily, and I trail my fingers over her mound as I lower the zipper. Her hips lift off the bed, and I slide my palm between her legs, cupping her firmly.
“Mmm,” she says, pressing her head back into the pillow.
It was one of the things I loved about her. Lucy was always able to sink into the idea of sex quickly. She could be having the shittiest day or be upset about something. But as soon as we got down to it, it was like a switch flipped inside her, and what we were doing together became the most important thing.
Nothing could distract her.
“Your pussy’s so hot for me,” I say, feeling the damp spot appear in her panties. I press my middle finger along the seam of her pussy through the fabric, pushing in as far as it will let me.
It’s nowhere near enough for Lucy, as she closes her eyes and grinds against me, desperate for the pressure to be up and around her clit.
“Eyes on me, Luce.”
Thick lashes separate as her eyes open. The lower lashes almost brush her cheeks.
She reaches behind my head, and I think she’s about to tug me to her to kiss her, but instead, she fingers the elastic holding my hair back off my face.
It’s always been way too thick and heavy. That’s why I have the undercut, removing some of the hair around my neck. But when she releases the elastic, it all falls free.
“Better,” she says with a shy smile.
At that, I cup her cheek with one hand and kiss her tenderly.
It’s out of place against what my hand is doing to her pussy, but I guess that’s the two parts of me.
I remove my hand and stand, before removing her suit pants, taking a second to throw them over the chair by the window. Her blouse comes off, next. It’s too delicate. Little buttons and thin fabric. The temptation is to rip it off her, but I contain it.
When she’s left in pale ivory lingerie, it’s all I can do to not stare at her body, counting my blessings that I get to do this to her again.
The curtains to the large window are wide open. She can see out over the lawn to the fence that boundaries the yard, to the treetops beyond. They don’t need closing because no one can see all the way in here.
There’s something thrilling about taking her in the daylight, after what we did in the bathroom the previous evening.
I tug my thick hoodie over my head and throw it onto the ground, swiftly followed by my black Henley.
Then, I pull off my jeans and the rest of my clothes until I’m fully naked.
Lucy’s eyes rake over my body, and whatever she sees causes two pink splotches to appear high on her cheeks. My body is different to how it was before. My chest wider, my muscles stronger. Ink covers more of it.
She bites down on her lower lip, and those goddamn thighs of hers press against each other again.
I climb between her legs from the bottom of the bed, then tug her panties roughly down her thighs and off over her feet.
Hungry doesn’t even begin to describe the way I feel about her.
And it all starts with her pussy.
I bury my face between her legs and suck hard on her clit. No easy buildup. Just straight in.
“Zach,” she cries, lifting her hips off the bed.
I throw her legs over my shoulders. Placing my palms beneath her ass, I can lift her, open her more fully to me.
“Drenched for me already,” I say, swiping my tongue along her seam. “So desperate to be fucked, you can’t wait to get wet.”
Have always loved the way Lucy tastes. Women all taste a little different. Some more sour than others. But Lucy’s was always the best.
