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My hips rubbed against him. He was hard. “Missed me?” I asked, finally shedding the emotional weight. I felt lighter, more like myself. Like Trask shouldered the burden of whatever I was so hell-bent on carrying around.
He groaned against me. “You’ve had me in this state for weeks.”
“So fix it,” I challenged, surprised by my own boldness. Maybe half of my frustration was more than just the emotional pain. I needed his touch, yearned for his hands and his lips all over me. I was like an addict who’d had to quit cold. I had been going through painful withdrawals. But now I could get my hit again. And again. And again.
He laid me on the bed and crawled over me. He attacked my neck with his lips, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin. “God,” he groaned. “I missed this. I missed your skin. I missed your boots. I missed your stories. I missed your smell. I missed your taste.” He continued kissing down my neck, nearly tearing my shirt in his haste to get it off me.
I ran my fingers through his hair, gripping his scalp, and pushing him down to my jeans.
“Eager, love?” he asked between kisses on my hips.
“I missed a lot of things,” I groaned. “But your hands and mouth were the things I missed most.”
It took him about half a second to get rid of my jeans and panties. He worked on my bra while he plunged his tongue into my pussy.
“Oh god, Trask!” My legs shook and I was afraid I was going to hurt him with how hard my legs clamped around his head.
“God, you taste like sugar.” He licked my pussy with long, slow strokes.
“More.” I breathed hard, arching my hips toward him.
“You ignored my texts, my calls.”
“Not all of them.” I gripped him hard and tried to pull him against me. “And I’m not interested in talking right now.”
“Maybe I am,” he sucked on my clit, letting it go with apop. “I still have a lot I want to say to you.”
“Say it after you make me cum,” I groaned, still trying to rub my clit against his mouth. He held me down with a firm hand.
“Oh baby, I am going to make you cum a hundred times on this little road trip of ours. But there are some things I need to say first.”
He circled my clit with his tongue, adding just enough pressure to make my hips buck, then he pulled away. I almost cried at the loss of contact.
“I could stay down here all night,” he whispered against me, his breath tickling my pussy. I needed more. I needed his touch. I needed to cum.
“Please, Trask. Make me cum.”
“I will, sweetheart.” He smiled at me, using his free hand to probe my entrance. “But first I want to tell you how much I missed you. It was a lot like this.” He sucked on my clit before releasing me. “Like constantly being on edge.” He circled my clit again. “Like being so close to something amazing, that climax, then having it stripped away from you.” He pushed two fingers in me slowly. So fuckingslow. “I was so close to you Eliza. I went to my parents’ every day I could, circling town, trying to catch a glimpse of you.” He rubbed my clit with his thumb, moving in and out of me at an agonizingly slow pace. “I’d catch small looks at you.” He sucked my clit and I cried out his name. “I missed hearing my name on your lips.” He did figure eights with his tongue. “You were always just out of my reach.” He continued sucking and licking at me, slowly curling his fingers in me, hitting the spot that was just what I needed.
“There, please, right there.”
“Do you want to cum?”
“Yes.”
He stopped moving altogether. “You tortured me. Avoided me like I was the plague. I hurt you, but the Eliza Walsh I know doesn’t back down from a fight. Where was that verbal sparring? Where was that woman who loved words? Where was the woman who took no shit?” He licked my pussy again. “Where was the fight, Eliza? You gave up.”
I groaned against him, fisting the sheets. I tried to speak through my labored breaths. “You grossly underestimate the power you hold over me. I’m a coward. I don’t pick fights I can’t win.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He circled my clit. The wave that had been begging to crash to shore was a fucking tsunami, waiting to be released. “You are far more intimidating than I could ever be. You terrify me. I love that. I love you.” He curled a finger in me, hitting the spot that made me see stars. “Cum.”
And I came apart under him. I saw stars and fireworks behind my eyes. I came with a yell that tore my throat. I felt like I could fly, like I was floating ten feet off the ground.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispered. “That’s one. I have thirty-four days to get the other ninety-nine. And we aren’t stopping now.”
32
TRASK
