“Words,” he reminded her.
She swayed toward him, above him. “Yes. I want your hand between my legs again.”
“Can these come off?” He tugged at the elastic of the waistband. “And do you want us to wash up first? I know you don’t like mess.”
“I think these can safely go,” she said, and wrestled her panties down her body and onto the floor. “If I’m wrong, so be it. I don’t care about mess right now.”
Her hand guided his between her parted thighs. Then he was stroking the softest, hottest flesh imaginable, her vulva puffy, her clit still swollen and stiff from her earlier orgasm. She was already near the edge, so near that after only a minute of playing and circling and rubbing, she was grinding against his fingers and trembling, her flesh pulsing into his hand as she moaned loudly and came again.
Later, when he was soaping her sticky belly in the shower, she suddenly laughed.
He looked up from his task, smiling at the sight of her cute scrunched-up nose. “What?”
“My cramps are totally gone.” She grinned and patted his hand. “Doctors should prescribe your fingers, Lucas. Women everywhere would be lining up for a monthly dose.”
“I’m afraid the supply is exclusively yours.” Angling her into the spray, he rinsed off the soap. “Sorry, pharmaceutical companies.”
When she stepped closer, her wet breasts pressed into his side, and he had to work hard to concentrate on the conversation.
Her grin had disappeared. “Really? Just mine?”
Those hazel eyes of hers slayed him. All that tentative hope, all that fear.
“Just yours,” he told her, each word firm. Decisive.
“Good.” Her palm cupped his cheek and urged him down for a kiss, which he gladly gave her. “Good.”
* * *
The next morning,she went down on him as he fisted his hands in her soft hair and called her name like an invocation. A plea and prayer of gratitude both, wrenched from a heart fit to burst from everything she was doing, everything she was.
After they’d both washed up and she took care of tampon business by herself in the bathroom, he produced the new vibrator with a courtly flourish that made her snicker. When he eased her down onto her back in bed, though, making certain her neck was supported by a pillow, she stopped laughing.
He stretched out along her side and settled down to play.
The right side of her clit, he discovered, was more sensitive than the left, and she liked little circles in that area, her hips rocking against the insistent buzz. Her hand clutched at his arm, his shoulder, the sheets, while her sex grew swollen and flushed. When she got close, a rosy stain spread across her face and chest as her knees drew up high.
Her head tossed on the pillow, and he cupped her hot cheek. Kissed her softly.
When he raised his head, she was panting. Squirming. “Lucas…”
“Higher intensity?” he murmured.
At her nod, he twisted the base of the vibrator, and the buzz grew louder. She moaned.
Her dazed hazel eyes squeezed shut, but he coaxed them open again, willing her to see him. See them. Associate the sight of him with her pleasure.
The orgasm shuddered through her as she gasped and made rough little sounds. He noted every twitch, every whimper, with satisfaction sharp enough to cut, even as he tenderly stroked the soft, damp skin of her belly with his free hand and gentled the pressure of the vibrator.
You’ll miss this. You’ll missme.Before you leave, I’ll make sure of that.
In that moment, he felt almost savage in his desperation. But he kissed her sweetly, lightly, as she lay trembling beside him, and he held her carefully as they both recovered.
When her breath steadied again, she eased away from him, sat up, and heaved a dramatic sigh. “Now I’m all sweaty and need another shower. Your insistence on giving me really intense orgasms is probably causing water shortages all along the Florida coastline.”
Her hair was sticking up around her head, rumpled by the pillow and his hands. She was, in fact, a bit sweaty and red-faced, as if she’d just completed an epic tennis match.
She was a mess.Hismess, and he loved it.
