I lick at her top lip, savouring it, laving the cupid’s bow. “Yes,valeja?”
“Get naked.”
“Patience.”
In truth, her demand sends my internal temperature rocketing. It’s only the sweetness of her skin against my lips that stops me from humouring her. I want her naked too, but to be able to take my time with her like this? No, I’ll take the moment.
With one hand around her wrists, I let the other trail over her cheek, down her neck, chest, and under the hem of her t-shirt. OfmyT-shirt. Not something I’d ever considered a turn-on until this moment, when I push it up and brush open-mouthed kisses over her stuttering heartbeat. She’s hot against my lips, searing.
“Tee,” she begs.
I raise my head, meeting her glazed-over eyes. “Tee?”
She tosses her head from one side to the other, wraps her legs around my waist and tries to pull me flush against her. “Sorry—”
“No.” I smile, almost shyly. “I like it. Say it again.”
Marlowe bares her teeth, and there’s nothing shy about it. “Earn it.”
When I run a finger over her stomach, just beneath the waistband of her pants, she almost throws me off. But I don’t let her rush me, even though I’m dying to hear my name in her mouth again. Marlowe trusts me, and she doesn’t hide it when she utters that syllable. It makes something as simple as a name more intimate, more like a promise between us, here. It feels right.
I peel her t-shirt off, revealing the swells of her breasts, the softness of her arms, the thickness of her waist. When she tries to take advantage by winding her limbs around me, I mouth her nipple through the delicate material of her bra until she’s breathless beneath me. She pulls her arms away and practically flings them back over her head. It should make me laugh, but instead, I just burn.
From the very beginning with Marlowe, it’s been one endless litany of ‘I should’.
Her skin is like silk and just as dear. I trace prominent stretch marks with my fingertips, drawing the most wonderful patterns across her chest and her plump stomach. She inhales sharply. Some of them I can line up with my fingers, as though life has taken vicious claws to her. But she’s here, and she’s glorious, and she is all I can see.
“Please,” Marlowe whines, words catching in her throat, as I slowly tug the lace of her pretty bra out of the way. I curl my tongue around a hard peak and tug. Nothing has ever sounded as precious as her moan, tasted as perfect as her hot skin. The bra ends up disappearing, and I spend precious minutes cupping, sucking and rolling her nipples between my teeth. I’m rewarded by the slow undulating of her hips against me, sending zaps of pleasure along every single nerve in my body.
She thinks this is killing her? It’s destroying me.
Her hands fly back down, plucking at my waist. “Take this off!”
I lift my head in warning, a puffy nipple popping out of my mouth, but Marlowe just glares at me. Her patience has snapped and there’s nothing but fire in her eyes. “I don’t care. Take it off!”
I do laugh at this, and it feels just as good to share a smile with her. She helps me take the t-shirt off, followed by my much more practical bra. I slide back over her, and the feeling of our bare chests pressed together snaps the last of my willpower. I take hold of the button on her pants and tug once, a question.
I ask out loud, too, because I like to be sure. “May I?”
“Fuck you. Take them off,” she growls.
I unbutton her pants, peel them down her legs, and throw them over my shoulder. Boots and socks next, then I’m mesmerised, frozen in place by the wonder before me. Somehow, Marlowe has managed to make the generic, plain underwear I’ve been providing her look indecent. I want to rip them into shreds with my teeth. The bands sit high on her hips, which are soft and thick beneath my hands. I can’t even speak; my mouth is suddenly so dry.
It doesn’t matter because when I slide a hand between her legs, she’s wet and wanting. A groan comes tearing out of her mouth, just about masking the obscene noise my fingers make when they sink into her.
“Oh, stars. Tee.” She gasps. “Please. Please. I’m so close.”
Already? That shouldn’t make me feel so feral. It’s cruel, but I pull my hand away and meet her eyes. She watches me like she’s seconds away from descent into madness as I lick my fingers clean. The tang of Marlowe on my tongue is maddening all by itself.
“Are you sure?” I ask, a little cheekily, buoyed by her shudder of pleasure.
It’s the way she bites down on her lip that does it. No more words. She has no more words, but she speaks to me withskin and heat. I don’t bother to remove the underwear; I just push it aside and sink my tongue into her. Marlowe arches off the blanket, presses my face deeper between her legs and says my name like a votive. I can’t explain the fervour that comes over me, but I want to hear her call out for me in a thousand different languages, until her voice is hoarse, until she can’t even form sounds anymore. It’s narcissistic and grandiose, and I want her to remember this moment way, way off in the future.
She wraps my hair around her hand, pulls hard enough to send a shudder down my spine. It interrupts my flow and I groan, arch into her grip, unable to resist. To be at her mercy like this is everything. She tugs harder and I find myself looking into beautiful, brown eyes as Marlowe smears a thumb across my bottom lip, soaked with her. I lean into her hand, and she cups my cheek.
“Fuck, Tee.”
I press a wet kiss to her inner thigh, rip the material down her legs and out of the way. “You’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever tasted.”
