Page 76 of Sugar
“What?” I don’t remember the question, mind held hostage by the memory of the first time I got to see her come.
“My . . . pregnancy.”
“Yes,” I hiss, leaning forward to lick up her neck as I settle her hips against the back of my couch.God, yes.
She stiffens. “Wait,” she breathes. “It does?”
“What does, Ava?” I don’t think I’m keeping up, but it’s hard to stay focused when her perfect fucking tits are bare and her nipples are hard against my shirt.
“Does my pregnancy bother you?” she asks, frowning, and I realize where I’ve gone wrong.
“Fuck no,” I grit out. If she only knew howhardit makes me to think of Ava as a mother. The baby growing inside of her might not share my blood, but I’m desperate to claim her too, to make them bothmine. The list of things I wouldn’t give for it is miserably blank.
I watch the worry on her face transform to something softer, something much sweeter. I hate that I made her doubt herself, even for a second. Doesn’t she know what she is to me? “Sugar, I don’t think I’ve ever been more unbothered about something in my entire fucking life.”
She laughs, and I love it. That I’m earning those again.
I lean in to catch it with my mouth, but the couch slides against the hardwood and sends me stumbling forward. I curse, lifting her back into my arms. “My room or yours?” I ask, gaze snagging on a clump of hair that falls forward off her shoulder, dangling against her breast.
“Yours.” She bucks her hips against my stomach, seeking friction as I walk with her.
“Almost there, baby,” I promise, feeling her need unfurl and pull taut. Her lips wrap around my earlobe, teeth scraping and sinking into skin. I grunt as pleasure rushes through me—I always loved that fucking spot, and she knows it.
My bed is still unmade from when she left it this morning. When I’d come in to get ready for dinner, I studied the place her body had been, wondering if I imagined the whole thing. Her tan leg hooking over my waist, the flimsy white panties she’d had on. I wonder what she’s wearing tonight, what I might find beneath these jeans. I drop her in the middle of the bed, and as if she can read my mind, she starts unbuttoning her pants.
“No.” I catch her wrist, stopping her. Her eyes hook into mine, a divot forming between her brows. “I want to,” I say with a shaky exhale.
But first, I just want to fucking look at her. Her deep, rich skin. The heavy curve of her breasts. The swell of her stomach, proof of her magic. Of her magnificence.
“Kasey,” she pleads, squirming. “Please.”
Closing my eyes, I let this all sink it. Let it soak into my heart. “Okay, sugar.” I nod, looking back down at her. “Let’s get you out of these.” I carefully,slowly, reverently unbutton her jeans. Pull the zipper down. Catch a glimpse of lavender lace.
My breath hitches. Heart stops.
“Fuck.”
Ava shimmies beneath me. Impatient. Whining.
I pull the denim down her legs and reveal more lavender.Morelace. More soft, perfect skin. I let the pants drop unceremoniously to the floor at my feet and straighten.
And look.
“Your turn.” The words scrape from her throat. “Let me see you.”
I reach over my head to grip the back of my shirt, pulling it up and off me. My fingers hook into the leather of my belt buckle and start yanking, but Ava props herself up, rising up to her knees. Lays a warm hand over mine. “I want to,” she echoes.
I grin down at her. On her knees, her face reaches my chest, and as she fumbles to work the buckle, she presses an open-mouthed kiss over my heart. Another against my ribs. I close my eyes as she blazes a trail across my skin, licking and sucking and kissing. It’s a slow and tortuous pursuit. Everything I need.
A metallic thud sounds, and I realize my belt has joined my shirt and her jeans on the floor. I open my eyes to find hers fastened to my fly, where I’m straining uncomfortably. She licks her lips. Looks up at me. “Can I?”
“Ava,” I groan. “You can do anything you goddamn please.”
Her pupils swell, those beautiful sapphire blues chased away by a startling black.
She works my jeans much faster than I did hers, fingers frantic and fumbling with a desperation that matches my own. The tension in the air around us is so thick it crackles, and I wonder if there could possibly be anything better in the entire universe. Or any other universe.No, I quickly think. Surely not.
She gets my pants loose, shoves them down my thighs. I hear her deep inhale as she takes in the sight, reaching to wrap her hand around me. She gives me one, lazy pump. “I forgot how—” She swallows. “Remember our first time?” she asks, eyes lifting to mine.
