Page 78 of Sugar
A tear spills out of her eye and gathers in the space where my thumb meets her skin. “Stage fright?” she teases with a watery laugh.
“Nah.” I trace a line over her lips. “They just weren’t you.”
“Kasey,” she says again, eyes closing. When she reopens them, there’s a hunger there, an unmistakable want. It’s intention made physical, and it makes me shudder. “Come here.” She grabs hold of my hand, pulling me onto the bed until I’m over her, cradled by her legs.
“Are you sure?” I ask, still hesitant.
“You won’t hurt her,” Ava promises, knowing. “You could never.” She lifts her head to kiss me, licking into my mouth.
I grunt. Splay a hand across her heart. Feel it beat beneath my palm. And slowly, leisurely,divinely, sink into her.
We both exhale out sounds of relief.
There’s a distant instinct to pause, to give us both a second to adjust. But my body has other ideas, gently rocking into her, needing to move, to reach deeper. I press a kiss against her cheek, her jaw. My hand slides up her neck and around her throat, gently squeezing. “You feel?—”
“Good,” she mumbles, gasping.
“Yeah?” I sit up on my knees. Look down at where we’re joined. “How good, sugar?”
She lifts her hips to better meet mine, the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin filling the room around us. It’s entirely too much. Nowhere nearenough.
Her hand covers her breast, squeezing. Pinching.
I watch. Spellbound.
“Really good,” she finally says. Her mouth widens with every thrust, fingers pulling at the skin around her nipple. Her cheeks are such a beautiful shade of pink. And her eyes—they’re on me as feverishly as mine are on her, taking in the tensing muscles in my chest as I move, to the roll of my shoulder as I lift her hips higher.
And then our gazes snag. Hook together. And I’m lost.
I snap my eyes closed. “Stop,” I beg. “Please.”
We both go still. Panting. Aching.
“Kasey?”
“Icannotcome.” I curse. “Not yet. Not until you do.”
A soft exhale sounds before a light giggle. “Do you want me to look away?”
“No.” I scrub a hand down my face. “Maybe.”
She hums. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’tyoustay still, and just watch me?” She arches a little, shifts her ass down against the blankets. “I’m sofullwith you, Kasey,” she whispers, “I don’t even need you to move.”
Her hand leaves her chest, skimming down the length of her stomach, until her fingers splay over herself, between us. She swirls them, coats them in her arousal, and lets out a long, tortuous breath.
And boy, do I fucking watch.
I watch her work, building herself up. Watch her fingers start to tremble and slip as she clenches around me, moaning softly.
Her cheeks flush brighter.
Her breaths grow shallow.
And I can’t help myself.
I sink my thumb into my mouth before pressing it against her, replacing her pressure with my own.
Iwant to do this.
