"Not if we hurry." I stepped between her knees and worked her cutoffs open. She lifted her hips without being asked—she always did, some cooperative instinct that wrecked me every time—and I dragged them down and dropped them on the floor. My hands ran up the outside of her thighs. She was already shivering.
"Gage—"
"I know." I hooked my fingers in her underwear and pulled them down too. "We don't have time for me to do this the way I want to." I spread her knees wider and looked at her—bare on my kitchen table, flannel pooling open, cheeks flushed, watching me. "So you're going to have to be fast for me."
She made a sound that was mostly air.
I put my mouth on her.
One long, slow stroke of my tongue and she grabbed the edge of the table with both hands. I held her thighs open and just—stayed there. Learned her. The way she tasted, the way she jumped when I pressed flat against her clit, the specific catch in her breath that meant I was exactly where she needed me. I knew all of it by now. I'd made a study of it.
"Oh god—" Her hips rolled toward my mouth.
I let her. Slid my hands under her thighs and tilted the angle and went back to work, slow and thorough, licking into her and then pulling back to circle her clit, over and over, reading the way her thighs tensed against my palms. She was soaked. Hadbeen wound up all morning with nowhere to put it and I could taste exactly how much.
I was so hard it hurt.
That was its own thing—separate from the want, which was always there with her. This was something lower and more animal. The idea of it. Three days late. My come inside her for weeks now, every night, twice some mornings, and the possibility that it had already worked, that she was already carrying it and didn't know yet. My hand tightened on her thigh. I pressed my mouth harder against her and she cried out.
"Gage—"
I slid two fingers inside her and felt her clench immediately, her whole body pulling me deeper, and I groaned against her and felt her shiver at the vibration.
"Right there," she breathed. "Right—please—don't stop?—"
I didn't stop. I worked her with my fingers and my mouth, curling into her, finding the spot that made her thighs shake, and she moved against me—small urgent rolls of her hips, chasing it, her hand fisting in my hair to hold me there. Like I was going anywhere.
"More—"
I gave her more. Sucked her clit and fucked her slow with my fingers and felt her start to tip toward it, the clench building around me.
"I'm going to—" She gasped. "Gage, I'm?—"
I pulled back.
She made a desperate, wrecked sound.
"Please—" Her hand yanked at my hair. "Please, don't?—"
"Please what." I pressed my thumb where my mouth had been. Light. Nowhere near enough. She was shaking. "Use your words."
"Inside me." She was already reaching for me. "Please, I need—Gage—please?—"
I stood, got my jeans open, lined myself up against her. The head of my cock nudged her entrance and I felt how wet she was and had to close my eyes for a second.
"Look at me," I said.
She looked. Chest heaving, hair loose, eyes too bright and too dark at the same time.
"You're already mine. Whatever that test says."
"I know?—"
"Say it."
"I'm already yours." Her hips tilted toward me. "Gage,please?—"
I pushed inside.
