Page 100 of Swept for Forever
“I mean it,” I murmured. “You’re tense. If you’re not ready, it will be hard for me to please you. And I want this to feel good for you. Not something you just get through.”
“I want it,” she said quickly. “I really do. It just…caught me off guard. I need a minute to prepare myself.”
Her sweetness? Her honesty? It gutted me.
“This night isn’t about what we don’t do,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s about what we do right.”
She looked up at me like I hung the damn stars.
“I’m not done, Otter. You trust me?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes sparked as she slid her panties down, black lace trailing over her skin.
“You’ll tell me if anything feels wrong?”
“Yeah.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Good,” I murmured, brushing her hair back. “Because I’ve got a hundred ways to pull you under, and every one of them ends with you floating.”
She let out a long breath, her arms stretched up in surrender.
I kissed my way lower, my hands gripping her thighs, spreading them.
My mouth found her opening. Pink, slick, and tight in a way that told me everything I needed to know—this was uncharted, sacred ground. I wouldn’t take more than she was ready to give. But I’d learn. God, I’d learn every inch, every tremble, and I’d make sure she never forgot what it felt like to be loved before she was taken.
So I savored her, letting every flick of my tongue and every stroke of pressure build her higher but never let her topple. Not yet. She twitched beneath me, releasing those breathless, broken sounds that punched the want straight out of me. Her fists tangled in the sheets, and her back bent with need. Bless her. She couldn’t bear how good it felt.
I slid my hands up, thumbing over her nipples. Her whole body arched like it was answering to me alone, trembling just enough to tell me she was on the verge. I slowed, not to hold her back, but to hold her through it. To make sure she didn’t just fall, but landed.
She was panting when I climbed up beside her, flushed and glowing.
“How am I doing?” I asked, brushing a kiss to her cheek.
She didn’t answer right away. She just wrapped her arms around me, sliding under my arms, her fingers locking at my back.
“You’re doing criminally well,” she murmured. “I think I’m already drowned. And drunk.”
“Good,” I whispered against her skin. “Let’s see how far under I can take you.”
I stayed where I was, my hand drifting lower. I stroked between her thighs, feeling the way her body responded. She bucked against me as I circled her clit—once, twice, almost soft—before pressing the pad of my finger hard, creating constant friction. My tongue had raised the walls. My fingers were here to break them down, one crushing wave at a time.
She jerked, her legs clamping around me, her whole body curving.
“Too much?” I asked.
She gasped out my name as if it were the only word she had left.
I took in her stricken expression, almost awed by it. “No one’s ever done that to you, have they?”
“God, no,” she breathed. For a moment, she seemed floored, then slowly found her way back to me. “Dom…what was that?”
I smiled against her. “That was you, Otter.”
She was still catching her breath. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
