Page 77 of Fall for Me

“How did you do that?” I laughed.

He grinned, and God, his grin was so gorgeous I couldn’t help but swoon.

“You need to smile all the time,” I said.

“I only do it with you.” He lay down next to me, his elbow on the ground and his head in his hand. He trailed his hand down my shirt, onto my bare hip.

“Well, you should do it more. You’re gorgeous, Seamus. Honestly.”

He drew his hand down between my legs, dancing the tips of his fingers along my inner thigh. His lips curled up. “You just never noticed me before.”

It wasn’t a wounded comment. Just a comment. I could tell the difference. But I was getting distracted again, needing him. “And look at us now,” I whispered, thrusting my hips toward him. I wanted him to touch me again. I needed it.

He slid his hands up, straddling me with his elbows and pushing my shirt up over my breasts. “Yeah. You, sending me naked pictures. Teasing me with these gorgeous fucking tits.” He brought his mouth to my nipple, sucking it through my bra. His soft tongue and the scratch of the lace against the sensitive skin made me buck my hips with a gasp.

I pulled down my bra, freeing my breast for him to suck on. He tugged at my nipple, teasing it into a tight bud. He worked the other one too, and before I knew what was happening, his hand was between my legs again, this time his thumb finding my clit.

“And this sexy pussy. God, Chelsea.” He circled my clit as if it gave him the pleasure it was rocketing through me.

“Maybe I should send you a picture of that sometime,” I breathed.

“Now that would have killed me.” He slid down further, pushing my legs apart and situating himself between them. Then he lifted my legs, pushing them back so my knees were up at my sides, my pussy exposed.

“I want you,” I breathed.

He hovered with his face above my slit. “You want me to touch you here?”

I nodded. “Make me scream.”

He grinned again and drew his tongue up my pussy, working my clit in sudden long strokes that made me lose all sense of myself. I grasped his hair, pulling him against me, and he shortened his strokes to little flickers, so fast I felt my breath going to match. He dipped a finger inside of me, then another, and then, when I was throbbing under him, begging him not to stop, he inserted a third. That slight stretch was what sent me over the edge. I came then, bucking under him, crying, “Seamus, Seamus, Seamus. Fuck, Seamus.”

It was a long breathless moment before I came crashing back to earth.

When I finally opened my eyes, panting, Seamus got up on his knees, looking slightly pained.

“I want to see you,” I said. He still hadn’t taken his jeans off—it wasn’t fair.

His expression shifted—he looked slightly uncomfortable. “We don’t have to—you don’t have to do anything,” he said.

I furrowed my brow. “I want to see you, Seamus.” I knew I sounded petulant, but I didn’t care. I got up on my elbows, then all the way to kneeling, flipping off my shirt so the only clothing I wore was my upside-down bra hanging around my ribs.

I snapped it at the back and when it fell to the floor, he closed his eyes, looking like he was cursing. “I just want to make you happy, Chels.”

Even as I was still soaring from the high of climaxing so hard; I halted at his words. He was looking at me now, his expression so serious, I knew he wasn’t just talking about physically.

He was too good, Seamus. Too pure. And what was I going to do with his genuineness? Was I going to go back to that person I’d been, not getting close, not opening up? Just fooling around for distraction?

Was I doing that now?

But Seamus shifted, his hands hesitating at his stomach, like he was debating with himself.

“Do you want to stop?” I whispered, suddenly struck by the thought he might be regretting this… that he might share some of my confusion.

I didn’t want him to stop. I couldn’t. I wanted to be with him, to make him feel good too.

Seamus shook his head. “No.” But he still didn’t move to undo his pants.

“Seamus, if you won’t show me, I’ll see for myself.”

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