Page 72 of Champagne Fizz

One, two, three at a time.

His palms cup my shoulder blades. Hands that are silk. His mouth on mine, teasing and testing as our breath finds a rhythm.

His fingers are stealthy, and it’s not until his hands round my ribs and slide under my breasts that I realize he’s unhooked my bra and released the band’s tension. Lust knots in my gut as his hands slip under the lace and lift, brushing his fingers softly over my bare nipples.

“Oh holy—!”

“Breathe,” he instructs, “deep breaths.”

I suck in air as I take in the sensations. He hovers his fingers over my skin, allowing my nipples to feel the heat of him. There’s no domination. His hands are like a soft kiss, whispering over my silken breasts.

“That’s so …” I take several gulps of air. There aren’t words.

Every inhale brushes my nipples against his palms, and there’s a wicked tangle in how my bra dangles from my shoulders, while the front hooks over his wrists. He hovers, only moving his fingers occasionally—a soft stroke here, the feather of a touch there.

“Simon,” I mew, my eyes closed so I can take in every sensation.

Skin on skin is intoxicating.

“More,” I whisper. “Please. I need you to touch—”

Softly, his hands cover my bare breasts.

My pussy aches with raw lust.

Simon flicks my nipples with the thick pad of his thumbs.

“Oh—!”

He does it again and I come sharply and without warning. A thrust of heat detonates inside my pussy like a star exploding.

“Simon!”

I can’t imagine how intense this would be if we were naked, if his mouth was on my tits and his cock was brushing my thighs as I opened wide for him.

I cry out again and press into his hands.

He thrums and teases and kisses me—elongating my orgasm.

I writhe. My hips rolling, my tits kneaded in his hands.

“You’re incredible,” I hear him whisper as heat pumps me from end to end.

I come just as hard as the first time.

Maybe harder.

“Oh my God!” I gasp—swearing, collapsing into his arms. I’m a mess—panting so hard I might pass out. And I understand now what he means. I’m so exhausted I could curl up in his arms and sleep for hours. I don’t have the energy to withstand how I’d react to him removing all my clothes or teasing my pussy with his fingertips.

I whimper at my own thoughts, breathing heavily as I look at him.

“I know,” he whispers, kissing me softly again and wrapping his arms around my back. “I’m so turned on it hurts, too. I get it. That was a lot, and you’re doing amazing.”

I tuck my head into the nook of his neck. “This isn’t fair to you,” I say softly. “You’re going to have the worst case of—”

Can I say blue balls? I mean, I just came so hard I was full-on swearing to the gods. I shouldn’t be embarrassed. But still, I opt for the more tasteful approach.

“How is this fair? I get to have release, but you … you don’t get to be satisfied? Doesn’t that hurt?”

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