I kiss along her sternum. Down her side. Over her hipbone. Slowly, I work her pants down, inch by maddening inch.
Just enough friction to make her gasp.
“Still doing okay?” I ask as my hands glide over her thighs.
“Better than okay,” she whispers.
I grin. “Good.” I grab the little dish I’d tucked away earlier—strawberries. Cold. Juicy. A little decadent.
I pick one up and press it gently to her lips. She gasps at the chill, then opens her mouth and bites down, humming as she chews.
“Good?” I ask, watching her lips.
She nods.
“Want another?”
She nods again.
I smile and this time, I lean closer. “Open up,” I murmur.
She does, and I feed her another—this time brushing my thumb across her bottom lip after. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me.”
Her breath is a whisper now. “Then show me.”
God.
“I’m going to kiss your thigh,” I warn, sliding down the bed. “Right here.”
She tenses—then moans as my lips find the soft skin just above her knee. I don’t rush. I kiss the inside of her thigh, slow and hot, inching up until she’s nearly panting.
Her hands fumble blindly for mine, and I grip them gently, pinning them beside her head as I hover over her.
“You trust me?”
She nods, lips parted. “Yes.”
“Then just lie back,” I whisper, brushing her hair from her forehead. “And feel everything.”
“Please,” she whimpers.
“Please what, sweetheart?” I murmur, brushing my mouth along her inner thigh again, close—so fucking close—but not where she wants me. “You have to tell me.”
She arches toward me, breath hitching. “Touch me. Please. Ash, I—”
I press my palm to her hip, steadying her. “God, you sound so pretty like this.”
My voice is low. Rough. I’m barely holding it together.
But I need this to be perfect. I need her to fall apart knowing exactly how much I want her.
“You’ve been such a good girl for me,” I whisper, my mouth hovering over her pussy now. She gasps—she can feel the heat of my breath there.
“Say it again,” she begs, her voice a broken whisper.
I smile. “Good girl.”
And then I finally touch her.
