Page 40 of Don't Call Me Sweetheart

“Why not?” I asked bluntly.

Her flush deepened. “We were kids, and then barely adults. He liked blow jobs, but he never seemed inclined to return the favor. And I was too embarrassed to ask. I got the impression he thought it was…gross.” The last word came out as a whisper.

Now I was pissed.

“Fuck the patriarchy,” I said fervently. Meaning it with every cell in my body. “There is nothing gross about this.” I ran my thumb along her seam, separating the soft flesh, finding her clit. Her breathless laugh ended on a moan.

“I would love to hear you ask me for this. God, Kate, I can’t think of anything hotter. But this time, you don’t have to ask. All you have to do is tell me yes if you like it, and no if you want me to stop. Okay?”

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Good girl,” I said approvingly. Her eyes flashed heat at that. I took note. For next time.

I pressed her legs apart and stared down at her, open and beautiful and wet for me. My cock jerked in my jeans, but I already knew there wouldn’t be time for that tonight. That was fine. It was enough that there was this. Her pleasure.

I kissed her there, gently with firm pressure, then waited deliberately for her reaction. I glanced up to see her staring down at me with wide, dark eyes, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

That was all I needed. I moved my hands down beneath her, cupping her ass, lifting her like a chalice to my mouth where I sucked and licked with greedy strokes. I wanted to devour her. She was wet and gorgeous and every fantasy I had never let myself have.

I slipped my hand between her legs, working two fingers into her slick passage, never letting up with my tongue and lips. Her hands clenched into fists, then she released them only to grab hold of my shoulders, her nails digging into my muscles, spurring me on.

God, she was close. Her internal muscles tightened around me. I didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate, didn’t release her from the sensual onslaught. And then I felt it happen, the moment I had wanted to give her. With a cry, she bucked her hips against my mouth, her pussy pulsing around my fingers. The sweetest, most joyful orgasm I had ever wrought.

I withdrew my fingers slowly and pressed one last gentle kiss, making her shudder. She stared up at me, her teeth white against her rosy pink lips. Looking at me with wonder in her dark eyes, like I was some godlike being who had handed her the moon and stars.

He felt like a god.

Unexpected, that.

Because while I was certain I had left women satisfied, they had never looked at me quite like that.

But now I was never going to settle for anything less.

Kate

I shut the door, then leaned against it with a happy sigh and closed my eyes.

That had been magnificent.

I had orgasmed with George. Not every time, but occasionally. When he took the time to get me off with his fingers on my clit before sliding inside me and racing toward his own pleasure. It had always been nice. Never mind-blowing, by any means, but in all honesty, I doubted I had provided him with that either. He had been so young.

We had both been so young.

We had been each other’s firsts, and it had been sweet and unsure and bumbling and awkward. But it definitely hadn’t been mind-blowing.

I had offered to return the favor for Max, seeing as he was clearly hard and uncomfortable, but he had declined.

I’ll take care of myself later, he had said, his voice rough. And I’ll be thinking of the taste of your pussy when I do it.

I had shivered. I shivered again now, reliving it, imagining him thinking of me when he touched himself.

“Good date?”

My eyes popped open to behold Jessica a mere three feet away, arms crossed, a smirk on her lips. A bucket of ice water to the face, personified.

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