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My hand slips free from hers so I can place my thumbs on the side of each pouty lower lip before gently pulling them apart until her pretty little clit is exposed. She gasps as I bury my face against the top of her slit. A whimper escapes as I run the flat of my tongue over her.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Her fingers tunnel through my hair as if to lock me in place. Doesn’t this girl realize that’s not necessary? There’s no way in hell I’ll willingly leave. Whatever she wants, I’ll give her. All she has to do is ask.
The moment I swipe my tongue over her, sweetness explodes in my mouth. Fuck, she tastes so damn good. I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough. Need throbs through my veins as my tongue dips between her silken folds. I thrust in and out a few times before lapping at her with the flat of my tongue. My hands drift from her inner thighs to her waist as she writhes beneath me. The more I torture her, the creamier she becomes. I’m so greedy to learn every part of her. My mouth glides upward until I can nibble at her clit. The moment I suck the tiny bundle of nerves into my mouth, her hips jerk, and her back arches off the mattress. When her muscles become impossibly tight and her breathing picks up speed, I realize that she’s close to coming. Instead of backing off and trying to draw out the pleasure, I circle my tongue around her until she screams out her orgasm.
My name on her lips is the best fucking sound in the world.
One I plan on hearing more of.
It’s only after her body turns limp that I lift my head. A dazed expression fills Demi’s face as she stares sightlessly at the ceiling. Pride expands in my chest at the realization that I was able to make her feel so good.
I press one last kiss against her glistening lips before crawling up her sprawled body. As I reach her face, her gaze snaps to mine, and she blinks as if awakening from a long dream. I smack a kiss against her softly parted mouth. “Feel good?”
“Yeah.” The sound she emits is more of a satisfied sigh than anything else.
I smirk. She sounds totally out of it. “Better than good?”
“Way better than good,” she admits.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
A smile curves her lips.
With my arms wrapped around her, I roll onto my back, taking her with me until she’s sprawled across my bare chest. A puff of air escapes from her before she settles against me as if she’s been there a thousand times before. Silence blankets us, but it’s not one that’s uncomfortable. Even though this is new, and it happened quickly, it's been a long time in the making.
I strum my fingers over the delicate line of her spine, never expecting the weekend to turn out like this when I stopped to check on her.
Had I hoped for it?
Sure...but I never actually expected something to happen. And now that it has, I don’t want anything to ruin it. And I sure as hell don’t want her having second thoughts. That’s the reason I’m trying to hold off on sex. I want her to be one hundred percent certain about getting involved with me.
“Are you okay?” As much as I want to believe she’s fully on board, I need her to verify it. I need to know that she doesn’t regret the intimacy we’ve shared.
Demi lifts her head to meet my gaze. “Yeah.”
I sift my fingers through the heavy fall of her hair, pushing it away from her face. I want to see every flicker of emotion as it crosses her expressive features. I want to know every thought that enters her head.
Another silence falls over us before she asks, “What happens now?”
The question is a two-hundred-pound weight sitting in the middle of my chest, making it impossible to suck in mouthfuls of air. At some point, before the weekend ended, the future—if we have one—needed to be discussed. I know what I want. But this is new for Demi. I need to play it cool and not overwhelm her by coming on too strong.
“That’s up to you.”
She remains silent for a lengthy stretch. It doesn’t take long for the stillness to become agonizing. “I’m not sure.”
My heart stutters.
Once.
Then again.
“I want to explore this,” she whispers, “but there’s a reason I don’t date football players.” For the first time this weekend, uncertainty churns in her eyes, and I’d bet my life that bastard Justin has wiggled his way into her thoughts.
My hands drift to her cheeks. I need to touch her. That’s what grounds me.
Slow. I need to take this slow with her.
“We can do whatever you want.”
