But in the moment, lost to the command of his touch, the smell of him, the contrast of his demanding touch with the gentleness of his lips peppering my shoulder, jaw, and cheekbone with kisses, there was nothing else but him and the shocks he shot through my body.
The energy was climbing. I nearly fell over the edge but then he slipped his fingers out of me, leaving me reeling and empty.
I gasped. “I was almost there.”
“I know.” He trailed his lips and teeth down my collarbone to the tops of my breasts. “I could tell by the way you were holding your breath, and how tightly your cunt was squeezing my fingers.”
“Why’d you stop?”
Kneeling, he kissed across from one of my thighs to the other. He looked up at me through wet eyelashes. “It’ll be so much better if you come on my face.”
He placed one of my legs over his shoulder. With one thumb, he spread my lips and flicked my clit with his tongue. Then again. And again.
It took a few minutes of his attention for my need to return in force, but as it did I grew liquid. My fingers delved into his hair when his fingers slipped inside of me once again. My hips bucked against his face as the sensations that had quieted so abruptly were brought back to life. They were a torrent of sparks across my scalp and down my spine. His pace remained the same, but the pressure he applied grew.
I arched, demanding even more from him with absolute abandon of how I might look or seem. He cupped my ass and squeezed, holding me still.
My toes curled. My breath was trapped between my lips. Behind my eyelids, light flashed as I went completely rigid. I cried out, the sound reverberating against the walls of the shower.
When I’d caught my breath, he gently moved my leg from his shoulder. His hands remained on my waist, keeping me stable. Resting his forehead against my pelvis, he shook his head from side to side, his shoulders falling slightly.
My chest pinched with concern. “Is something wrong?”
He let out a single laugh that didn’t seem like it held any humor, but I couldn’t tell without seeing his face. When he inhaled and tilted his head back to look up at me he had to shield his eyes from the shower’s spray, blocking my view from really seeing him.
“I’m...sad”—he swallowed, and for a moment time stilled. I didn’t know what he was going to say or how it could be everything I wanted yet destroy me at the same time—“that I don’t have a condom on me right now.”
One of the freshly healed wounds in my heart split open. I coughed a laugh, knowing with absolute certainty that any pain I was feeling was ultimately self-inflicted. I knew who he was, and I knew whoIwas, but I kept coming back for more.
Just this weekend, I promised myself.
Forcing a smile, I said, “Lucky for you, there’s one in my dress pocket.”
But he didn’t grab for it, instead he hugged my thighs turning his head to press one cheek to my stomach. “You are the perfect woman.”
Chapter 15
Jamison
Istood bringing the crumpled mass of Sadie’s dress with me. She had begun chewing on her lower lip at my statement, and she hadn’t stopped. But it was true all the same.
She was perfect, and I was going to miss her like the loss of my home or taste. Not that I really understood what that loss would mean, but knowing this could be the last time she was in my arms made it so clear that I would never be the same after tonight. I had thought I understood my world and what was vital to me, but now I knew I’d been naive.
“You’re pretty easy to please,” she mumbled. “One condom and you’re calling me perfect.”
“The condom and you being perfect are two separate things.” I pulled the foil wrapper from the wet fabric and let it drop with a smack to the floor. “And for you, I’m easy as fuck.”
A devilish little grin tugged at the corners of her lips. “So true, you took very little persuasion.”
I gripped the base of my throbbing cock and stroked up and down it once, enjoying the way her eyes darkened and her jaw went slack at the sight. “You’ve been persuading me all day. If you knew how many times just today I’ve jerked off thinking of you, you’d be disgusted.”
A moan almost like a purr rumbled from the back of her throat. “You wanting me is not disgusting.”
“I’m fucking desperate for you.” Pulling the condom from its wrapper, I rolled it from my tip to the base my shaft. “I’ve needed you for months.”
“Then why didn’t you knock on my door?” Her voice caught on the last word as I hoisted her up with an arm under each of her legs, opening her wide for me.
“You told me that’s not what you wanted from me, and I always give you what you want.” The persistent aching throb of my cock punctuated the truth of my words. The only relief I would find would be from her slick heat—the squeeze of her cunt as she grew nearer to her own climax. But I waited to fill her, because even if the words didn’t mean what I wanted them to mean, I still needed to hear them. “Tell me you need me, like I need you.”
