“I’m good. Really good.”
He pulled my sweatshirt over my head, his eyes darkening when he saw the sports bra.
“This is incredibly hot.”
“It’s a sports bra.”
“It’s you.” He traced the edge with one finger. “Can I?”
“Please.”
He peeled it off, and for a moment I wanted to cover myself. My breasts weren’t what they used to be. Gravity and time had opinions. The stretch marks from my pregnancy—brief as it was—still lined my skin like faint silver rivers. The extra weight I carried settled in places I wished it wouldn’t, but before my mind could spiral further, I saw his face.
Cole looked at me as if I were art.
“Perfection,” he whispered.
“I’m not.”
“You are.” He cupped one breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple. “Don’t argue with me. I’ll just have to prove it.”
His mouth closed over my nipple, and I stopped thinking.
His tongue was doing things that should be illegal. I arched off the bed, my hands fisting in his hair, and he hummed in approval.
“You like that.” Not a question.
“Yes.”
He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention, while his hand slid down my stomach, fingers playing with the waistband of my yoga pants.
“Can I?”
“God, yes.”
He hooked his fingers in the waistband, pulled them down along with my underwear, and dropped them on the floor.
Then he sat back and looked at me.
I was completely, vulnerably naked. And he was staring at me like I was a goddess.
“You’re staring,” I said.
His hand traced down my thigh. “I’m memorizing. Every curve. Every mark. Every perfect imperfection.”
“That’s a line.”
He leaned down, kissed my hip bone. “It’s the truth. You’re gorgeous, Autumn. And I’m going to spend to prove it to you.” He kissed lower, his breath hot against my inner thigh.
“That’s… oh God.”
His mouth found me. Warm. Wet. Skilled in a way that suggested he’d done this before and paid attention to what worked. He licked up my center, and I nearly came off the bed.
“Sensitive and so wet.” He sounded pleased.
“It’s been…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. His tongue had found my clit, and my brain forgot how language worked.
He took his time. Explored. Learned what made me gasp, what made me writhe, what made me grab his hair and hold him there while I begged for more.
