Page 39 of Seven Lost Summers
She leans in, pressing a kiss just below his ribs, then another lower. Theo’s chest rises and falls faster, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wants to grab onto her.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Theo,” Bianca breathes, her lips brushing against his skin.
Theo shifts back onto his elbows as he tilts his head back, eyes closing tight, swallowing so hard it looks like he’s choking on the words he’s trying not to say. And then I see it. The exact moment when he lets go. One hand moves, threading through her hair, his grip testing, hesitant but powerful.
Bianca presses another kiss lower, just above his waistband, her fingers dragging along the edge like she’s testing him, waiting for the word to stop or the command to keep going.
But no words come.
She glances up at him, her mouth hovering just inches from where I can see his hard cock straining beneath his jeans.
“Is this okay?” she breathes.
Theo exhales sharply. For a second, I think he’s going to pull back. Old habits, old fears trying to take control, but then he grits out, “Yes.”
Bianca smiles before unbuttoning his jeans, the motion torturously slow. Theo tenses, his body fighting it, but he doesn’t stop her.
She tugs at the zipper, dragging it down slowly, then glances up at Theo again, giving him one last chance to back out. But he doesn’t.
The way he watches her, the way his fingers stay tangled in her hair, it’s a goddamn sight I won’t ever forget.
She slides his jeans down, just enough to expose the outline of his cock, thick and straining against his boxers. My eyes are glued to it, but then Bianca leans in, pressing her lips to his hip, just above the waistband—and fuck, I barely register the touch. My eyes are too busy watching her ass.
That short fucking skirt, riding up just enough to put her tight ass on full display. The way it curves perfectly, every inch of her body teases me as she kneels in front of him. That black thong barely covering her pussy? It’s an invitation, a goddamn tease.
It takes every ounce of control I have to not step forward, rip that piece of fabric off her, and bury myself inside her right fucking now. Instead, I press a hand against my jeans, stroking through them, desperate for relief as the ache in my body grows. I want her, need her, and I’m not sure I can wait much longer.
I take a step, my body moving before my brain can catch up, ready to close the space, ready to take what I fucking want, but I force myself to stop.
My gaze snaps back to Theo. The way his stomach tightens, his fingers twitching.
Bianca runs her tongue over his abs, and Theo’s lips part on a sharp exhale, barely holding himself together. His eyes are shut tight, but I can still see the struggle in his face, the way he’s fighting against everything that wants to snap.
Bianca shifts, pressing her lips lower, dragging the kiss over his skin a little longer before she hooks her fingers into his boxers and tugs them down, enough to free his hard cock. Theo’s breath stutters, chest rising and falling.
His eyes open and they find mine.
For a second, Theo stares at me, frozen.
I give him a small nod. A quiet promise that he’s okay.
I move closer, sitting next to him on the bed, my body brushing his as I lean in, close enough to catch the heat rolling off him. Without thinking, I press a kiss to his shoulder. It’s soft, lingering, something I’ve never had the urge to do before. It’s unfamiliar, but somehow, it seems right.
Theo turns his head, and something in his expression shifts. His eyes drop to my mouth, lingering there a beat too long. My heart skips a beat, and for one second the urge to kiss him slams through me. But then, a sharp hiss breaks through the air, pulling his attention away. Theo jerks and I hear him moan.
I glance down to see Bianca’s lips wrapped around the head of his cock, her mouth sliding down his shaft, taking every inch of him. She moves with perfect rhythm, taking him deeper with every stroke.
“Fuck,” Theo says. His whole body shudders.
And for a while I just watch him unravel, watch the tension in his body slip away.
Chapter 8
Theo
I’veneverwantedanythingthe way I want her. Food doesn’t fill it. Sleep doesn’t touch it. Air barely keeps me standing. She’s still on my tongue, soaked into every breath, every thought.
I love the way her slick clung to Nate’s fingers, the way he looked at me when he held them out, daring me to move.
