Page 84 of Less

Because she doesn't push for more, even when she deserves it.

She doesn't demand.

Doesn't get angry.

She just holds me.

“I know. I need you too,” she whispers.

My eyes close.

“Do you?”

“Yes. Please, Less,” she whimpers.

My throat tightens.

Because as fucked up as I am, this goddess of a woman really does need me just like I need her.

“Hold on,” I growl and turn with her in my arms.

My heart is pounding inside my chest—I’m so amped up I wonder if my cock might actually punch a hole through my pants.

I still can’t believe she’s here. That I’m holding her and she’s wrapped around me, buzzing like a live wire.

But she is, and I am determined to make sure she never regrets giving me this second chance.

Oh, and she's not idle.

Rusty is sexy and sultry, sucking on my neck, raking her hands through my hair, and fuck, it feels so good I almost trip.

But I don't. I can’t.

Not with precious cargo in my hands.

“Too many clothes,” she says, tugging on my shirt.

And I have to agree.

I lower her to the ground and kneel at her feet. Then I slide my hands up her shapely legs and grab the waistband of her leggings.

She bites her lip, looking down at me like the queen she is, one cinnamon-colored eyebrow raised.

I tug on the fabric, catching her panties too—and I roll them both off her.

Fuck. Me.

Her pretty pink pussy is glistening with desire.

I can see it from my position, and because I'm an impatient man, I press my face to her and breathe her in.

“Fuck, Amanda, you're dripping for me.”

“Less!” she squeals and holds on to my shoulders as I nuzzle her thighs apart and start to eat her out right there.

Amanda moans and clutches at me.

I look up, grinning, as I twirl my tongue around her clit—circling closer and closer but not quite touching her where she needs me most.