“God, you’re beautiful,” I murmur, tracing my fingers across her skin.
She’s stretched out across the bed, pale skin, long limbs lit up in a soft gold glow from the dimmed overhead lights. Her freckles are everywhere, scattered across her shoulders, her chest, her thighs. Her hair’s a mess, red strands tangled against the pillow, and her breath hitches when I say it. She looks away, like she doesn’t believe me. Like there is a single part of her that I wouldn’t spend my whole life staring at.
“Yeah, swollen ankles and unshaved legs are super sexy,” she retorts. I shake my head, pulling back and standing up. I scoop her ankle into my hand gently, placing my lips against it.
“Yours are,” I say. She rolls her eyes, but I ignore her, letting my mouth travel up her leg. I kiss her knee next. “And your knees,” I say, then I keep going, placing my lips against every part of her. “Your hips.”Kiss.“Stomach.”Kiss.
When I reach her chest, I catch her eye. “These,” I say, then I drag my tongue underneath the fold of her left breast, letting it travel up and circle around her nipple. Darcy lets out a moan, so I cure her ache by pressing my thigh against her bare heat. It’s slick and warm against my skin, and she doesn’t hesitate before slowly rocking against it.
“That’s it,” I coo, moving to her other breast. I suck on it, gently at first, then grow more desperate as her hands slip into my hair. “You like that?”
She nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as her head rolls back. “Yes,” she breathes out. A smirk tugs at my lips, but before I can say anything back, a loud moan tumbles out of me. My hands grip the sheets, and for a second, my eyes flutter shut.When they open, Darcy’s the one smirking, her head cocked to the side, brow raised.
“You like that?” she asks tauntingly, her thigh slipping against the raw ache between my legs. My body jolts as she moves it, another hitched breath tumbling out of me.
“God yes.”
The words slip out on their own, but I don’t regret it. Because the moment it leaves my mouth, Darcy begins rocking and grinding against me, and the more she moves, the more I need her. I let myself collapse onto her, catching my weight on my forearms. Our chests glide against each other as we move. Her pussy is wet and warm against my thigh, and when I press it harder, pushing against her clit, she curses again.
“Shit, Peyton,” she moans, her fingers tightening in my hair. My head gives way to the pull, tilting back as we grind. I start to move faster, and when I do, her hips lift slightly off the mattress, back arching.
A low groan hums in my throat, vibrating against her ear as I rock and press and buck against her.
“You feel so good,” I rasp, my movements becoming more urgent. The heat between us is intoxicating, and I can feel her clenching around my thigh. “So fucking good.”
She throws her head back, a strangled cry escaping her. “Peyton… Oh, shit, Peyton…Fuck…”
Her words are a ragged whisper, lost in the rhythm of us. I press harder, focusing on the small, sensitive nub against my thigh. And the best part is that every time her clit rubs against me, mine receives the same pressure. Darcy’s moans grow louder, more desperate and her nails dig into my back.
Short, sharp gasps slip out of me as my vision tunnels. I can feel the tension in my stomach, coiling tighter and tighter, but I don’t stop. Not with her, gripping me like a lifeline, begging for the pressure in her body to release.
“Almost—I’m almost—” she pants, her body trembling beneath mine.
And then, with a final, shuddering cry, she arches off the bed, her muscles clenching around my thigh in a series of powerful spasms. The wetness against my legs becomes slicker, the heat radiating between us hotter. And when she lets out a final, pleasured sound, my body absorbs it.
I hold her tight, burying my face in her neck as the last tremors wrack her body. My own release follows quickly, the tight coil in my stomach unraveling. I collapse against her, our bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding in unison.
“Fuck,” I pant. I lift my head, my gaze meeting hers. Her eyes are glazed, her cheeks flushed, and a soft smile tugs at her lips. She looks utterly, breathtakingly beautiful.
“Yeah,” she agrees, brows drawn tight as her chest still heaves.
We lay there for a moment, just catching our breaths, bare bodies pressed together. And when our eyes meet again, this time, laughs slip out of the two of us. I slide off her, letting my wet back fall against the mattress, running a hand through my damp hair. I blow a slow, steady stream of air through my lips.
“We should’ve been doing that this whole time,” I say, flitting a finger between us. Darcy laughs, then tilts her cheek against the mattress to look at me.
“I don’t know about that,” she says, grinning cheekily. I raise a brow, dragging a hand up her thigh. Slowly. Intently.
“Oh?” I tease, flirting with the dip in her hip. “So you’re saying you didn’t enjoy yourself?” Her back arches just before she smacks my hand away.
“Okay, okay,” she surrenders, pulling the pillow out from under her head. She lays it on top of her body, wrapping her arms around it like a koala to shield herself. “It was unregrettable.”
I stare at her earnestly. “Unregrettable?”
She hitches a shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Is that even a word?”
“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes.
