My hand reaches out, my fingers touching her carefully, gliding across her skin, mapping the lines of her body with warm steadiness. My lips follow, brushing fire-soft trails down her throat, her collarbone, the curve of her stomach. She trembles beneath every touch, little breaths catching in her throat, fingers clutching in my hair as she unravels.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” I mouth, before resting my forehead against hers.
She shakes her head. Her hands slide around my back as she moves me with her as she steps backward toward the bed. Her lips crash onto mine.
We sink onto the bed, limbs tangled, breath mingling, hearts beating wild and in sync.
I raise up, taking in the sight of her below me, her hair splayed around her head, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling with her breaths, the prickle of sweat beading on her skin. She’s a goddess.
My fingers trail down her chest, through the valley between her breasts, over her stomach. Her back arches as I reach her clit, rubbing small, firm circles. She moans, her perfume seepingout, dancing around me, begging for more. Urging me to take her, claim her, mark her.
But not yet. I won’t bond with her until she asks me. Until she’s ready.
Her hand reaches up, touching my cheek lightly as she guides my face toward her. “I want you inside me.” Her voice is husky as she speaks.
“Not until I taste you.”
I move between her legs, my eyes really seeing her slick, glistening pussy.
My tongue sticks out, flattening as it glides through her folds, taking her juices with it. Delicious. I slip my finger into her opening, crooking the tip so that it drags along her G-spot when I pull out. Swirling my tongue around her clit, another digit slips in, my fingers thrusting inside her to a beat only I can hear. She squirms beneath me, but before my cock ever enters her, I want her to orgasm all over my tongue.
Each thrust of my fingers goes deeper until she’s pressing her legs firmly against me. Slick soaks her thighs, and my face is covered. Then it happens. She comes. Her juices flood my hands as she all but suffocates me between her creamy thighs.
Killed by pussy. What better way is there to go?
Everything between us becomes slow, deep, intimate—my touches steady, my breath uneven, body gentle around hers. No rush. Just closeness. Sweetness. The kind of intimacy that feels like a confession in itself.
When her heartbeat finally calms beneath my palms, I lift my head, and move up her body, kissing her with my slick-coated lips. She hums into my mouth, and my cock begs to be inside of her.
“I want you,” she whimpers. “Now.”
It’s all I need to hear. She’s a vision lying on my bed. I can’t wait until this is forever.
I take hold of my cock, running it through her slick folds until I reach her hole and push inside of her. I’m not planning to knot her tonight. No, tonight is for us to enjoy and explore each other.
Her legs wrap around my waist as if moving on instinct. I brace my hand on the bed beside her head, leaning down so I can run my nose along the length of her neck, inhaling her scent. There’s no way in hell I’m going to last long. Her hands slip around my waist, her nails dragging along my flesh. Her own way of marking me, claiming me without a bond.
I can feel my balls becoming heavy with my cum, a familiar tingling erupting in my belly. I’m so close, but I want her to come again. I shift my body, reaching my hand between our sweaty bodies and stroke her clit. That’s all it takes to send her over the edge.
She comes apart first, clinging to me, gasping for breath. I thrust into her as I hold her tightly, breath catching, praising how perfect she is, how good, how wanted, even though I know she’s not going to hear me.
And when I follow—shuddering, face buried against her skin—it feels less like losing control and more like falling into place. I collapse onto her, making sure to shift just slightly so I’m not crushing her with my weight.
Only when we’ve both caught our breath, do I pull out of her, and kiss her softly on the lips.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” She yawns, but nods.
I head straight to the bathroom, turning the hot water on in the sink then looking for something to clean her with. Picking up a washcloth, I run it under the water, making sure it’s not too hot, and carefully clean myself before getting a fresh one for Bayleigh. When I go back into the bedroom, I take care of cleaning her, not sure how sore she may be. I know that before Lincoln she was a virgin, and I’m not sure how many times theyhave been together intimately since then. I toss the rag into the laundry basket and then climb in beside her.
I gather her against my chest, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other smoothing slowly through her hair. Her breaths grow even, her body relaxing fully into mine. I kiss her temple, then the crown of her head.
“Sleep,” I tell her, but I can tell by her breathing she’s already doing that.
I stay awake long after, memorizing the shape of her hand on my chest, the weight of her body curled against mine, the soft rhythm of her breathing.
And as I listen to her sleep, I know—without a doubt—that this changed everything between us.
49
