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"Yeah."
"You use it with other girls?"
"No." He unzips my jeans and peels them off. Slowly, he drags his fingertips up my bare legs. "You're the only person I've ever brought home."
"But you—"
"You're the only person I've ever cared about, Vi." He drags his lips up my calf, over the inside of my knee, up my inner thigh. "What was the deal? You come on my hands then on my face?"
"Uh-huh."
"I'm going change the order around." He pushes my panties aside. "If that's alright with you."
"Ethan…"
His breath is warm on my skin. His lips are soft and wet. He does owe me this, but I'm not concerned about an orgasm count— there's no way I'll ever catch up to him on that.
It's the celebration I want.
The happiness.
His happiness has always been my happiness. I want the same from him.
I want-
My thoughts drift away as he flicks his tongue against me. Right now, I want this.
God, I want this.
Ethan's fingers dig into my inner thighs as he licks me. I melt into the bed. I melt into his touch.
There isn't a solid part of me left.
My pleasure builds quickly. I run my fingers through Ethan's hair. I press my thighs into his cheeks. I groan his name.
He's giving me all this pleasure and I'm giving him all of me. This is how it should be. Not just Ethan between my legs—though I certainly can't complain about that—but the two of us without defenses.
Without pretenses.
Without fucking clothes, even.
I pull my top over my head and do away with my bra. My hands go back to Ethan's hair. My hips buck as his tongue gets more aggressive.
Almost.
Almost.
There.
With the next flick of his tongue, all the tension in my core unfurls in a hell of an orgasm.
"Fuck, Ethan." I tu
g at his hair.
I look up at Ethan's mirror and watch his movements. He's still got his head between my legs. He's still licking and sucking on me.
God, he's good at this.
