18
MILES
I start by unknitting her arms from their protective stance. I hold her hands in mine, and when she leans in to kiss me, I don’t just take the kiss; I take all of her. I inhale the scent of rain dried on her skin, all the heartbreak I caused her, and all the heartbreak anyone else gave her, and I keep it for myself, giving back only what she deserves.
Her energy shifts, and with an urgency she didn’t have before she clings to me, like she needs me to be closer, like she needs more of me.
She can have all of it.
Her needy hands find their way down to the parts of my body that still have clothes on. Once she digs her fingers into the waistband of my shorts, I hook my elbows on the edge of the bench and lift my hips with the aid of a push from my good leg. Abby manages to remove my shorts, taking her place on my lap again.
Whatever hardness I’d lost during our conversation is already back, more insistent than before, and with one less layer of clothing between us, the ache to be inside her only intensifies.
I run the backs of my fingers along her throat, over her collarbones, down the middle of her chest and stomach to wherethe line of her workout pants hits her just above her belly button. On my way back up, I brush my fingers over one of her nipples, and she lets out a ragged breath from slightly parted lips. I trace the same pattern with the same intentional and slow movement, down and back up, brushing over the other nipple. Her chest rises and falls, quick with each breath. She arches her back ever so slightly, begging without a word for more of my touch.
I trace the pattern one more time, down her chest and stomach, and this time my upward trail goes to her tattoo, lifting one of her arms and placing it on my shoulder. She moves the other arm there as well, her fingers grazing the back of my neck. I trace my number on her skin and tilt my head to press my lips against it.
I kiss her tattoo, and then the space next to it, trailing soft, wet kisses to her breasts. By the time I take her nipple into my mouth, Abby is panting, and when my tongue flicks over that tender peak, the soft moan that escapes her lips nearly knocks all sense out of me. I have to remind myself to take my time with her and not give in to my baseless, animal instincts.
While I play, mouth and fingers at work, Abby starts grinding on me. Rolling her hips against my cock, seeking relief from me. Even through the fabric of her leggings and my boxer briefs, it feels good. I love the way she’s using me, and I want more of it.
“Tell me how wet you are,” I say, my lips moving against her chest.
“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” she says, breathless. I can hear the smirk on her face.
“Cute,” I say, holding her hips still with my hands and lifting my face to meet her gaze. Her jaw hangs a bit slack from the sudden stop, her perfect lips pouty now.
“How about you find out for me?” I suggest.
It’s a question, an invitation, and—if she wants it to be—a demand.
Her eyes flicker with something dark and heady, her eyebrows raised in challenge. With one hand still on my neck, she maintains eye contact as she snakes the other down the front of her pants until the fabric covers about half her forearm.
Her arm reemerges and she holds up two fingers at eye level, wet and covered in her arousal. My cock stirs at the sight of it. Without a word she angles her fingers to my face and I part my lips as she slides her fingers inside my mouth.
Her salty, earthy taste is better than anything my memory could have conjured. If I wasn’t already losing my grip on my self-control, this put me right at the edge. I suck her fingers clean, drawing them deeper into my mouth, winding my tongue around her fingers. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, her eyes glazing over with pleasure. She yanks her fingers out and drops her mouth to mine, kissing me violently, all heat and desire, pushing against me hard enough that my back digs painfully into the bench behind me. I don’t care. The pain fuels my pleasure, something about it tapping into the athlete in me, where pushing myself to my limits felt like a reward. I bruise her hips with my fingers, moving her against my aching cock.
I need to taste her. I need to be inside her. I need more than what we’re doing right now.
With great effort, I break away from our kiss, trying to catch my breath. I push her hips up, off my lap, driving Abby to a standing position. She steadies herself, looking down at me, brow furrowed. I slide her pants over her hips, and she steps out of them. Her pussy is eye level with me, her mint-colored thong soaked, the way I knew she would be from her fingers.
I catch her thighs, pulling her closer. I bury my face between her legs, inhaling the scent of her. My dick aches for her, but I exercise my last bit of self-control. I hook my fingers around the straps of her thong, pausing.
“May I?”
“Yes,” she says with a nod, running her fingers through my hair. I slide the thong down her legs, helping her step out of it.
I cup her ass, bringing her even closer. Understanding what I’m trying to do, she braces herself on the wall behind us, propping one leg on the bench, and straddles my face as I tilt my head backwards. My lips are right against hers. I am in heaven.
I tease her, sliding my tongue along her opening, wet and swollen just for me. The noise she lets out makes my dick throb, and I take it as encouragement to do more. I probe deeper with my tongue, sliding the tip of it over her clit. She moans again, gripping my hair. I dig my fingertips into her ass, and this time I go all the way. I taste her with the fervor of a starved man. Because I am starved. I have wanted this woman from the day I saw her over a decade ago, and I couldn’t get enough of her then. I can’t get enough of her now.
I’m about to adjust to sit taller when she widens her stance, allowing me to bury my face inside her. I groan against her in approval, rocking her hips, encouraging her to take her pleasure on me, to use me.
She does, and I keep up with her motions, sucking and licking to elicit the most stunning noises out of her. I could come right now just from this, and eventually I have to stroke myself because this is too good. My dick is aching and I need some relief.
“Are you touching yourself?” she asks around panted breaths.
“Mhmm,” I murmur, creating a vibrating sensation against her.
