Page 256 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
The edge.
This is what it’s like to truly live.
“Hart,” she breathes my name again, and I almost come in my damn pants.
“Fuck, you taste so sweet.” My hands slide down her ribs, tracing the curves of her body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
I nip at her other nipple, tugging it gently between my teeth, before I close around the plump, hard tip, drawing out every bit of sweetness from her.
She gasps again. “Don’t stop.”
I chuckle, a deep, rumbling sound. “Not a fucking chance.”
I take my time, worshipping each breast with my mouth and hands, licking, lapping, and rolling her nipples between my thumb and forefinger. Each lick of her rounded nipple teases out another sweet moan. Those moans will be the end of me.
Then I’m out from under her shirt. I can’t stand it. I need more.
I rip her shirt over her head. I hook my fingers in her belt loop and pull her down to her knees.
Our eyes meet, but not for long. I delve into her mouth. My hand cups the back of her head, and I fucking kiss her hard and rough, my lips crashing down on hers, hungry and demanding, like I’ve been holding back for far too long.
And I have.
Too fucking long.
Her mouth opens beneath mine, and I take advantage, my tongue exploring without restraint. I suck her lower lip into my mouth, biting softly before releasing it, tasting the sweetness of her, the hint of something sharp and intoxicating. It’s like drinking from a well I’ve been dying of thirst for.
My other hand slides down her body, possessive and urgent, gripping her hip as I pull her closer. She arches into me, so damn perfect. Her moans spill into my mouth, fuelling my intensity.
We’re breathless by the time part, and I immediately grip her hips and lift her back to her feet.
“Whoa.” She teeters, reaching for my shoulders.
“I got you.” I stay on my knees and hold out my hand. “Give me that damn honey.”
The cutest squeal comes out of her, and she eagerly hands it to me.
“Since you’re pretty insistent.”
“I am.” The smile on her face is beautiful, and I could stare at it for the rest of my life.
I slather her middle in honey. Not delicate. No drizzling. I smack on it, and she laughs.
“Graceful.” Her fingertips touch her stomach, sliding over the golden liquid.
“Graceful is overrated.” I catch her hand with both of mine, my thumbs pressing into her palm. “I’m going for memorable.”
“Good memorable. I hope.” Her voice sinks into a smoky murmur. “And not payback for the honey feather situation I put you in.”
My head snaps up. “Never. Never would I punish you.”
Was that a flash of disappointment across her face? This woman is going to be the end of me.
“Not unless you want me to punish you.” The words spill out like warm whiskey, smooth and heady.
I take my time sweeping my tongue over the honey on each of her fingertips before moving to the honey-drenched belly awaiting. I drag my tongue over the paths of honey. Taking my time and savoring each drop. I want to take my time because it’s her—Jade.
I never want this to end, the closeness, the touching, but most of all, us, here and together.
