Page 44 of The 7 Rules of Moving On
When his tongue drew a line up between her folds, her head fell back. When his lips closed around the firm swell of her clit, she bucked, her heels digging into his back. He wasted no time, not now, not when it was clear with each whine and whimper and curse out of her mouth how badly she needed to come. He sucked and licked and flicked his tongue. Slid one, then two fingers inside her, pumping them in and out in time with his tongue lapping at her. While she writhed against his face, he slipped a third finger further back, caressing her, making her grasp his head and pull his hair.
She might not feel the same way about him that he felt about her. For all he knew, she might leave tomorrow and never think about Twin Hearts or Mystic again. But she wasnotgoing to forget about him, because after he gave her what would hopefully be the best orgasm of her life, he was going to take her to his bed, and he was going to take his time.
RULE NUMBER SIX: NO CATCHING FEELINGS
KISSIE
When Kissie came, it seemed to last forever, Trig’s fingers and tongue drawing more pleasure out of her body than she’d thought was possible to feel. At some point he’d risen to his feet again, kissing her with her taste on his tongue.
Refusing to let another second go by without touching him, she grabbed him by the belt loops and yanked him close. Pulling his button loose, she unzipped his jeans before he could back away. When she reached inside, taking him in her hand, he moaned into her mouth. It was the sexiest sound she’d ever heard.
“You’re so soft,” she told him, the skin under her fingers silky and smooth.
Pulling away, his abs tight when he looked down at her hand in his pants, he said, “I am nowhere near soft.”
She laughed. “Your skin. Your skin is soft.”
When she ran her thumb over his head, sliding through the bead of moisture that had collected there, she wasn’t laughing anymore. Because he’d closed his eyes, bit his lip, and as his body rocked back and forth with each slow pump of her hand up and down his shaft, she realized she was in complete control of him. She could move faster or slower. She could make her grip tight or loose. She could lean forward and flick her tongue over his abs, his chest, his nipples. She would have done all of these things too if he hadn’t reached down, pulled her hand out of his pants, tucked himself back in, and hauled her over his shoulder.
“Where are we going?” she asked, squealing when he bit her ass through her dress.
“My room. We’re going to my room.”
“Trig? Are you going to fuck me?”
“Yes, Kissie. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk. If that’s all right with you.”
“Don’t we need to clean up?”
“It can wait.”
He’d left his jeans unbuttoned, giving her plenty of room to slide her hands down inside and over his ass. “Then, yes,” she said, squeezing while he carried her into his room. “It’s definitely all right with me.”
Dropping his shoulder, he set her down gently on her feet. She took a moment to take in his room, something she hadn’t bothered to do last night.
It was clean, warm. There were pictures on the walls of the pool and the town, the mountain range surrounding them. His bed was made, clothes all put away, and a bookshelf overflowing with books, all with worn edges, all looking read more than once.
“Take off your dress,” he instructed, stepping away from her, his eyes drinking her in, devouring her. She’d spent her entire adult life wanting to be looked at the way he was looking at her, like she was a sunrise after months of endless night.
Reaching back, pulling the zipper of her dress down, she slid the straps off her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor.
“Take off your jeans,” she said, unclasping her bra and setting it on his dresser. She watched him push denim over his hips. “And your boxers.”
He did this too, his cock springing free.
“Yowza,” she wheezed, staring at his thick, curving length.
He fisted his cock, stroking slowly, indulgently. “Are you on the pill?”
Unable to tear her eyes from his hand sliding up and down along his shaft, she nodded slowly, pressing her legs together against the heat building up between them.
“I’m clean, Kissie.”
She’d gotten tested for everything after Bryan cheated, just in case. “Me too,” she said, barely able to breathe when he took a step toward her, and then another.
When his hand rose to cup her breast, that little asshole in her head said something about sleeping with Trig being an extremely bad decision. And Kissie knew, at least on some level, that the asshole was right. But she didn’t care.
When she’d found out where Dawn was taking her, she’d hoped to lose something about herself at Mystic, heartache, loneliness, indecision. To return home with less weight on her shoulders, more confidence to take her into the next chapter of her life. What she hadn’t anticipated was finding something here too. Finding him.
