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“For what?” I asked.
She kissed the inside of my thigh.
“For this.”
Her hair hid her from me, so I pushed it out of her face, holding it back for her.
“Yes,” I said, trembling with need.
I opened my legs to her, revealing myself. It had been nearly two years since I’d been with someone and being with Natalie wasn’t like being with someone else. This was the girl I had grown up with. Who had been my best friend. She stroked my leg with the hand that had the friendship bracelet on it.
I thought she was going to go right in, and I’d wanted her to. I’d wanted her to give me everything, right now.
She didn’t. She kissed my thighs. She kissed right below my belly button. She even kissed my knees.
I heard myself begging.
I’d never begged before.
“I know, I know,” she said, irritatingly calm. “I know what you want.”
She did. She always knew what I wanted.
“Then give it to me,” I said through clenched teeth. I even tried thrusting my hips up to meet with her mouth, but she just chuckled and pushed me back down.
Infuriating.
There was nothing else but this need that she was not giving in to.
“Please,” I said.
“Okay, okay, impatient,” she said, as if this was a joke.
I wasn’t laughing.
At last, she kissed me between my thighs and I almost cried in relief. Finally.
My fingers clenched in her hair as she softly kissed me, nuzzling and paying tender attention to my center of desire.
I ached for more, so I begged again.
This time, she didn’t make me wait, and added one finger dipping in and out of me.
“More,” I moaned.
She added another finger, curling them until she hit exactly the right spot. Between that and the work of her mouth, I fell over the edge of an orgasm so fierce, I saw stars as it ripped through me, consuming like fire, me completely at its mercy.
When the waves of passion finally quieted, I wasn’t sure if I could move. I opened my eyes and looked down at Natalie. I’d let go of her hair at some point, so it fell like a curly curtain in front of her face. She pushed it out of the way and looked up at me, her face glistening with the evidence of my pleasure.
“You okay?” she asked.
“You may have killed me,” I said. “I’m still not sure if I’m alive.”
That made her laugh.
“If you’re talking, you’re alive. You’re so fucking gorgeous when you come,” she said. “I could watch you and listen to you all day.”
“What about all night?” I asked.
