Page 76 of One Night with Number Nineteen

“Your tongue.” Her hands find my hair again, holding my head against her. “Especially when you do, oh, that.”

“Mmm,” I murmur, drawing my fingers back. Then sliding them deep, just like that.

Her pussy clenches around me.

So, I do it again, and I keep doing it until she’s so slick, so wet, clamping so damned tight around me that I’m going to lose my fucking mind.

And I still don’t stop.

Not as she grinds against me.

Not as her fingers fist my hair so tightly it feels like my scalp is on fire.

That’s nothing compared to the ache in my balls.

And I still don’t stop.

I can’t.

Not until⁠—

I feel it.

The rhythmic clench. The sudden gush of desire. The way her entire body trembles.

“Oh, fuck,” she whispers, eyes flying open. “Oh—ah—oh my God! Sawyer— I—” She goes tense for one long moment…

Then beautifully limp, her expression suffusing with pleasure, her eyes sliding closed, her limbs falling back against the couch.

I slowly slip my fingers out of the tight clasp of her, slowly crawl my way up her body, gathering her close.

Needing her close.

But when she rolls into me, her hand snaking down my front, I capture her wrist, bring her palm to my mouth. “No, Pages. That was for you.”

She frowns, presses closer. “But who’s going to take care of you?”

My insides twist. My heart rolls over in my chest. “You,” I say softly. “Just…another time, baby. Okay?”

Her eyes start to clear, and I don’t want that, don’t want her to be concerned or annoyed or frustrated. I want her lax-limbed and heavy-eyed, aftershocks of pleasure luring her into her dreams. So, I kiss her.

And I do it long and deep, do it until my body’s screaming for air again.

Only then do I break apart and tuck her back against me, stroke my hand up and down her back.

“Are you going to try to win every argument by kissing me?”

I chuckle. “Is it working?”

“Yes”—a yawn—“and only because it’s been a long couple of weeks. Next time, you’re all mine.”

I still because…

God, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.

“Deal,” I say, doing my best to make my voice sound neutral, doing my best to make it sound as though that simple statement hasn’t rocked me to my core.

But of course she sees right through that.