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“Spread your legs for me,” he whispers.
I hesitate and he slides a hand between my legs, using his fingers to caress my soaking wet clit. I moan as it swells under his touch.
“You’re so fucking wet for me…” He tears his mouth away from mine, sweeping soft kisses up and down my neck.
Pushing down my bikini top with his other hand, he swirls his tongue against my breasts and my breathing slows.
I cry out in pleasure as he sucks my nipple into his mouth, establishing a slow, additive rhythm between sucking and gentlybiting.
Just as I’m getting used to the perfect ways of his mouth, he slides two fingers inside me.
“Ahhh, Easton…” I arch my back against the seat as his fingersslide deeper, filling me and making me feel so damn good.
I shut my eyes as he continues to prove that he knows exactly what he’s doing, exactly how to make my body bend to his will and push me to places I never knew existed.
“Easton….”
“Yes, Scarlett?” He darts his tongue against my nipple again.
"Please."
“Pleasewhat?” He whispers. “You want me to stop?”
“Never.”
“Then I think we should take this to your room…”
10
ME
Easton has one hand on the steering wheel, and the other caressing my thigh when we pull into my neighborhood.
The rain is still falling over the town in sheets, while lightning streaks across the sky.
“Are we going through the front or through your window?” he asks.
“Let me see.” I pull out my phone and log into the security system. My parents’ cars are gone, and I know Tully won’t be back for a while.
Disabling the cameras, I tap the screen a few times.
“We can go through the front,” I say, and he pulls his car under a sycamore tree at the corner.
He grabs an umbrella and walks over to my side. Then, as if that thing is a match for this storm, he pulls me under it and we rush toward my house together.
Our wet clothes drip onto the veranda’s wood as I unlock the door.
Inside, he follows me up the stairs and into my room.
Shutting the door, he pulls me into his arms and his mouth meets mine again. Heated and wet.
My dress falls to the floor in a heap. His shirt falls over my chair.
He pushes me against the wall, pressing his mouth against my neck before returning to my lips.
“Do you have condoms?” I ask.
His lips curve into a smile. “For what?”
