“Are you telling me to stop?”
Greta hesitates. “I don’t—I-I’m not used to…”
She still hasn’t told me to stop.
I flex my fingers in her panties.
“Greta, baby, let me in.”
She keeps her legs clamped shut, but Greta surprises the hell out of me when she rolls onto her back.
Moonlight seeps through the window behind our heads. I can make out her eyes, wide, searching mine.
“I want to, but…”
I let my lips graze her cheek, gentling my voice as softly as it will go. “But what?”
Again, she hesitates. “But I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
I feel more than see her shrug. “It’s just been a long time since… since I felt… desirable.”
I nearly choke.
Not for the first time, it hits me that Josh didn’t just steal her money. And I think this theft is worse.
She has no idea. No idea how much I fucking want her. How I’m gone for her.
“Greta, I’ve never desired anyone more. I wanna make you come so bad it’s killing me.”
Her inhale is jagged.
“Let me in, baby,” I rasp. “Let me make you come.”
“Zach—” She says my name. It's not a protest but a plea. Her fingers tangle in my hair, and she tugs, but she hardly needs to. I’m kissing her mouth, worshiping her mouth.
Between each kiss, I give almost everything away. “I want you… I wanna watch you come… Let me touch you… Let me learn how to bring you there… Let me in, baby…”
And she does.
Slowly, slowly, she lowers her knees, relaxing the grip of her thighs.
“Yesss,” I sigh. My heart races as I reach down to cup her heat.
She trembles as my fingers press against her plump lips. I’m careful though. For the moment, I intend to ignore her precious clit while I get to know every slippery petal, every ripening fold.
“Goddamn,”I moan at her wetness, her silken sex. Touching her, pleasuring her is like drunkenness and absolute clarity all at once.
Because her body speaks to me as I touch her. Her breath comes short and choppy as I explore her with my touch. When I bring the pads of my index and middle finger to the crest of her sex, she bucks her hips.
“Oh God—”
And there it is, the glossy ridge of her clit, swollen and sensitive under my touch. I circle it with just a little more pressure. Greta lets go a startled cry, her left arm flies above her head to crash onto her pillow.
The motion tugs at her short top, and it’s all the invitation I need. Nosing the fabric out of the way, I find the swell of her right breast and kiss it for the first time. The soft, lilac-scented flesh is enough to bring me to my knees.
I take it in my mouth with a moan.
