My hands find the clasp of her bra, but I pause, waiting for her permission. She nods, and I unhook the delicate lace, letting it fall away to reveal the perfect curves of her breasts. My thumbs brush over her hardened nipples, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her.
“These too,” I say, fingers trailing down to the edge of her panties. “Take them off for me.”
She smiles, slow and sensual, before hooking her thumbs into the waistband and sliding the black lace down her thighs with deliberate slowness. The fabric pools at her feet, and she steps out of them, now as naked as I am in the moonlight.
I take a step back, drinking in the sight of her—the elegant curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. Every inch of her is perfection.
“Come here,” I whisper, reaching for her hand to guide her back to the bed. “I need to taste you now.”
She moves back onto the bed, her body a pale canvas in the moonlight. I follow, lowering myself between her parted thighs. The scent of her arousal draws me closer, a heady perfume that makes my mouth water. I press my lips to the inside of her knee, then trail kisses up her inner thigh, savoring the silky texture of her skin against my mouth.
“Con,” she breathes, her fingers finding my hair. The gentle tug sends electricity down my spine.
I take my time, mapping the terrain of her body with my lips and tongue. When I finally reach the apex of her thighs, I pause, my breath hot against her center. Her hips rise slightly, seeking contact.
“Please,” she whispers, the single word carrying the weight of her desire.
I dip my head and taste her with a slow, deliberate stroke of my tongue. The flavor of her floods my senses—sweet, musky, intoxicating. Her sharp intake of breath tells me everything I need to know.
“You taste incredible,” I whisper against her slick flesh, before diving back in with renewed purpose. My tongue circles her sensitive bud, applying just enough pressure to make her moan but not enough to push her over the edge.
Her thighs tremble against my shoulders as I slip one finger inside her, then two, curving them to find that spot that makes her back arch off the bed. The combination of my fingers and mouth works her into a frenzy. Her breathing turns ragged, punctuated by soft cries that grow more urgent with each passing moment.
“Don’t stop,” she pleads, her voice tight with need. “Oh god, Conor, don’t stop.”
I have no intention of stopping. I double my efforts, my tongue flicking faster as my fingers maintain their rhythm inside her. Her entire body goes taut, and I feel her begin to pulse around my fingers. She cries out, her hands fisting in the sheets as waves of pleasure wash over her.
I don’t let up until the last tremor subsides, until she’s gasping and pushing weakly at my shoulders. Only then do I raise my head, my lips glistening with the evidence of her pleasure.
“Come here,” she says, her voice thick with satisfaction.
I crawl up her body, positioning myself between her thighs. The head of my cock brushes against her entrance, and we both freeze at the contact. Her eyes lock with mine, dark and luminous in the moonlight.
“I need you,” I tell her, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears.
“Then take me,” she answers, her hands sliding down to grip my ass, urging me forward.
I push into her with one slow, measured thrust. Thesensation of her body yielding to mine, hot and tight and perfect, nearly undoes me. I have to pause, forehead pressed against hers, breathing her in as I fight for control.
When I begin to move, it’s with deliberate slowness. Each thrust is measured and controlled, allowing me to watch her face as pleasure builds again. Her eyes never leave mine, creating an intimacy more profound than the physical joining of our bodies.
“You feel so good,” she whispers, her fingers tracing patterns on my back. “So right.”
Something shifts between us then—a barrier falling away, leaving us more exposed than our nakedness already makes us. I increase my pace slightly, drinking in the sight of her beneath me, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed.
“Harder,” she urges, her nails digging into my shoulders. “I need more of you.”
The last threads of my restraint snap. I grip her hips and drive into her with renewed force, each thrust punctuated by her cries of pleasure. She wraps her legs around my waist, changing the angle, taking me deeper.
“Yes,” she hisses, her head thrown back to expose the elegant column of her throat. “Just like that.”
Our bodies move together with increasing urgency, the slap of skin on skin joining our mingled moans in the darkness. Sweat slicks our skin, making us slide against each other in a delicious friction.
“Touch yourself,” I command, my voice rough with exertion and need. “I want to watch you come again.”
Her hand slides between our bodies, her fingers finding her center. The sight of her pleasuring herselfwhile I thrust into her pushes me dangerously close to the edge.
“Fuck, Betsy,” I groan, my rhythm faltering as heat coils tighter in my groin. “I’m close."
