Her breasts are small and firm and, like everything else about her, they’re fucking perfect.
So perfect it takes me a moment to notice the tattoo on her ribs:I am enough.
The words are a sucker punch, a reminder that I once made her feel small and inadequate and that no matter how many times I apologize, I can’t take that hurt away.
I reach out to touch the tattoo, but Sutton stops me.
“It wasn’t any one thing,” she says quietly. “It was a lot of things.”
My blood heats, the knowledge searing my veins. It’s bad enough that I hurt her, but knowing there have been others?
Fuck. It makes me want to throttle something—or someone.
Sutton curls a hand around my neck and pulls me close, pressing a deep kiss to my lips. One that says she doesn’t want to dwell on the past. Not tonight, anyway.
That much, at least, I can give her.
I break off the kiss and lower my mouth to her left breast, flicking the dusky peak with my tongue before sucking it into my mouth and biting down.
Beneath me, Sutton whimpers.
I release her and she arches her back, silently encouraging me to do it again.
This time, when I take her in my mouth, I circle her nipple with my tongue, gently massaging the tender flesh.
She sighs and rakes her fingers through my hair, nails scraping against my scalp and setting off a chain reaction of goosebumps as I make my way to her right breast, licking and sucking and memorizing the goddamn taste of her.
It may be fall in Pennsylvania, but she tastes like summer in the south and I can’t get enough of it.
I kiss my way down the taut muscles of her abdomen and remove the spandex shorts separating my tongue from her sweet little pussy.
Sutton is laid out on the bed before me like a goddamn present, all hard angles and soft curves, and when she reaches between her legs and rubs her clit, I nearly lose my mind.
“Fuuuck.”
Forget the plaid skirt. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
I shove my pants down and free my cock, gripping the base with one hand as I use the other to rub pre-cum on my shaft. Sutton’s eyes go dark and she licks her lips as I jack myself with long, steady strokes.
Tension coils at the base of my spine, tightening with each pass.
I’ve never jerked off with a woman before, but the sight of Sutton touching herself is the best kind of foreplay.
“You’re killing me, Shorty.” The words are a quiet rasp, and the only sign she hears me over the music is a wicked grin that practically dares me to join her on the bed.
“I’m killing you?” She laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “I’m the one who’s been waiting two years for you to deliver a proper fucking.”
The way she throws my own words back at me is the sweetest kind of torture. Both an invitation and a reminder.
I strip off my pants and tear through my backpack, searching for a condom.
Thank you, Scouts.
I’m shit at tying knots, but I’m always prepared.
“Still waiting,” Sutton chides, opening her thighs to give me a better view of her glistening sex. “Should I just finish myself?”
I jerk upright, foil packet in hand. “I’d love to see you try.”
