Page 60 of Last First Kiss
She presses me down onto the bed, her body firm against mine. My pulse thrums in my ears as her hand trails achingly slowly up and down my thigh. Her touch is light enough to make me shiver but heavy enough to set me on edge. Clara smiles as she tortures me, and I claw at her skin, dragging my nails along her back, desperate to pull her closer.
“Clara, please,” I beg, arching my hips into her hand.
Clara’s lips curl into a devious smile.
“Please, what?” Her whisper brushes my ear like silk.
“Touch me,” I say, my voice breaking with the desire coursing through my veins.
Clara slides two fingers inside me. And I gasp as those fingers curve and thrust in and out of me, doing exactly what I need, driving me to the edge of pleasure.
I moan, legs quivering as stars begin to skitter across my vision. Right as I’m about to fall over the edge, Clara slides her fingers out and murmurs, “Not yet.”
“Clara,” I gasp, as tears prickle at the edges of my eyes.
“Yes?” Her voice is low, almost teasing, as she brings her fingers to her lips, drawing them in slowly. A soft moan escapes her as her tongue slides over them. My chest tightens, every nerve on fire, as I watch her eyes flutter closed, then open again, locking on to mine with a heat so intense it steals the air from my lungs.
She knows exactly what she’s doing. And I wantallof it.
I pull her closer, aching to feel her hands on me. I tanglea hand in her hair, while the other finds hers, guiding it with urgency to where I need her most, to where my body is begging for her. Clara’s breath catches the moment I press her hand against me. Her eyes darken, and her fingers move slowly, teasing.
“Please,” I whisper, not even meaning to say it out loud, but it slips out, desperate and needy.
“Tell me how badly you want it,” she says as her fingers start rubbing harder at my core.
I want to tell her how good this feels, how I’ve never wanted anything this badly, but my brain can’t keep up. Words slip right out of reach.
“I—I can’t,” I manage, my voice breaking as my head drops back with a sharp moan as she intensifies her pressure, and I swear I can feel her smile against my skin.
Every part of me is burning, and the warmth of Clara against me is both so familiar and so foreign right now, but I love every bit of it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CLARA
I’ve been so worried about everything that could go wrong between Alejandra and me that I didn’t allow myself to think about how good things could be, how amazing and perfect and normal it would feel to cross every line with her.
I hadn’t let myself picture how addicting it would be to have her beneath me like this. Gazing up at me with that deliciously dazed expression, her eyes glazed with need as my fingers barely graze her clit, teasing, circling, while my other hand rolls her nipple between my fingers, coaxing each arch of her back.
I press my mouth to her breast, my lips parting to suck and lick with hunger. Her skin melts beneath my tongue, softer, warmer, and so much sweeter than I imagined. A fire ignites deep inside me, shifting from want to an aching need—a need to taste every inch of her, to map her body with my mouth.
“Open,” I breathe, tracing my fingers along her thigh.
Alejandra spreads her legs with aching slowness, like she knows I’ll savor every second, and I do, somuch that I nearly whimper at the sight of her thighs finally falling open—inviting me in, pulling me closer without a single word.
I lift myself from the bed, and I sink lower, my lips brushing over her breast, gliding down her stomach. I’ve never been a fan of hickeys, but right now, I have this intense need to mark her, to leave proof that I was here on her skin, tasting her, losing every ounce of restraint I’ve had for the past fifteen-plus years.
I slide between her legs, then linger along the inside of her thighs. My breath catches as I take in how wet she is.
I’ve rarely let my mind wander this far; the few times I’ve indulged in the fantasy of having her like this couldn’t have prepared me for the reality. For how perfect she is beneath me, or how fiercely the wave of desire hits me, and I want to live in this moment a little longer. To revel in the fact that this beautiful woman I’ve craved for over a decade is drenched forme. Wantingme.
I lower my mouth to the curve where her thigh meets her hip, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses into the heat of her skin. Her pulse quickens, her breath catches, eyes softly closing as I lean in, kissing nearer to where her body aches for me. My mouth hovers above her swollen clit, with just a whisper of contact, teasing her with every breath while my thumb circles gently, stoking the heat until she trembles beneath me.
Her back arches, hips reaching for my mouth, but I lock her legs in place as I loop my arms around her thighs.
Alejandra bites her lip, desperation flickering in her eyes. “Clara, please.”
I tease her again, and she whines softly, her hips searching for me once more, but I hold back, letting the tension coil tighter.
