“Yes,” she whimpers.
I do it again, switching to the other nipple. My teeth sink in as I suck hard.
I alternate between sucking, biting, and kneading. My thumbs flick her nipples until they’re swollen and red.
She’s a mess underneath me, her body writhing, her moans filling the room. Hot. Breathless. Mine.
I could listen to her like this forever.
But when my mouth brushes her side, she squeals again.
“Cash. Stop—it’s ticklish.”
I grin against her skin, warm, teeth just grazing. “Is it really?”
I can’t resist. My fingers dig lightly into her side, and laughter bubbles out.
“Cash!” She tries to curl away, kicking her legs. “Yes! I—fuck—stop!”
I bite back a smile and finally make it to her mouth. She’s still laughing when I kiss her, which turns it messy and crooked and perfect.
Our teeth bump.
We both laugh again.
“I’m ruining the mood,” she whispers. “We were like feral hallway sex five minutes ago.”
“Are you kidding?” I murmur against her lips. “This is my favorite part.”
Her smile softens.
Then she kisses me slower.
Deeper.
Her hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders, pulling me down until we’re flush. Skin to skin. Heat everywhere.
No space left.
Her fingers trace lines down my back, and I shiver.
“See?” she whispers. “You’re ticklish too.”
“I am not.”
She scratches lightly, and my hips jerk.
She grins. “Oh my god, you are.”
“Don’t weaponize this,” I warn, gathering her in my arms, dragging her close until she’s trapped against me.
“Too late.”
I kiss her just to shut her up.
That’s a lie.
It’s because I can’t get enough of her.
