The second I touched her, my pulse raced out of control like it was the bottom of the ninth and we were an out away from a championship. She tasted like sweetness and sweat, and I licked the bubbly liquid from her earlobe down to her shoulder. She shivered and I bit down on her just a little.FuckI missed her.
“Christ,” she moaned, gripping my arm to the point her nails dug in into me. I ran my fingers down the other side of her neck, dipping into the front of her dress and tracing the outline of her pert nipples. They hardened the more I sucked her skin, and she arched her back, her body begging me to do more. It would be rude not to at this point, so I pinched one of those perfect nipples, and she bucked. “Brooks,” she begged, rocking her lush hips against me.
I was hard as a fucking rock and scolded myself for deviating from my plan. “Remember my rule? Truth,thendrink.”
She nodded, a wild look circulating behind her eyes. I had a million questions for her, each more more serious than the rest, but my body was on fire, for her. All reason flew out the window as I nipped her skin one more then before meeting her heated gaze.
“Are you wet for me?”
“Find out.”
“No, answer me.” My voice was barely recognizable, and my cock throbbed when she ground against me.
“Yes.”
I held the bottle back up to her mouth and watched as she drank from it. She then tilted it just enough so the liquid fell between her breasts. “Oops.”
“My, Mitch, are you wanting me to put my tongue on you again?”
“Yes, please.” Her voice was husky, and I knew she was turned on to the point she would come for me within minutes if I reached between her thighs. And Jesus, I wanted to do that.
I held her eye contact before running my tongue along her collarbone and moving farther into her cleavage. The valley between her breasts was sticky from the champagne, but my god, it was sweet. The low dip of her dress gave more access to her skin, and I scooted the fabric over and blew on the sensitive area. She trembled and squeezed her thighs around me as I moved the material out of the way. When she ran her fingers through my hair, I sucked her nipple into my mouth, harder than I intended. She cried out and pulled my hair, encouraging me to do more.
I obliged. I was a gentleman.
“How does this feel? My mouth on you again after all these years?” I asked when I switched from one breast to the other. She didn’t respond, and I gently flicked the pebbled tip with my tongue. “Answer me.”
“Like I’m going to explode.”
“Perfect.”
To hell with charming her. I wanted to make her writhe with pleasure. I alternated between sucking hard and soft, swirling and biting her nipple when I teased the inside of her thigh with my fingers.
Oh, she is very wet for me.Evidence of her arousal soaked my hand, and I moved her panties to the side to ease two fingers inside her. I curled them, remembering like it was yesterday how hard and fast she liked it. She needed the escape from reality–as did I back then–so hard and fast and messy were where we made sense.
“Yes,” she moaned, grinding against my hand when I used my thumb to massage her swollen clit. The noises from the back of her throat got louder, heavier, and I continued tasting her fantastic tits. “I’m so close.”
“Kiss me,” I demanded, suddenly needing to have her mouth. She stilled just the slightest bit before lowering her face toward mine. I stopped all movement with my hand until she softly pressed her plump lips against mine, using her tongue to open my mouth and taste me. She sucked my bottom lip into her mouth, keeping her gaze on mine, and I increased the pressure. She bucked, her eyes closing in bliss, as she came apart in my hands. If she tried to break apart our kiss, I refused. I wanted to taste the pleasure right off her mouth, and I did, damn well not getting enough.
“Fuck.” She remained on my lap, my fingers still inside her, surrounded by her warmth, and my dick strained against my pants to the point I surely had a wet spot. “Fuck, Brooks.”
“God, I’ve missed your sounds,” I said into her hair. I was in no hurry to move, and a couple of beats passed before she lifted her leg. “I would love to give you more. We have time before we need to show up for the cocktail hour.”
She responded with a throaty laugh that did nothing to settle my dick and collapsed on the seat next to me with her legs wide open. “We weren’t supposed to do that.”
“I know.” Yet I didn’t regret a single moment of it.
“I can’t be what you want,” she said, not looking at me.
“Who is to say that I don’t want you, coming all over my hand again, right now?” I ignored the signs that told me to stop, to back away, to stop myself from getting hurt again by her. I muted them. “Whatdoyou want, Mitch?”
She eyed me, looking at the tented front of my pants before meeting my eyes. “Just tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want you, us, naked, sweaty. All of it. But just for one night.” She picked up the bottle and slid onto my lap again. “Answer me, B. Can we do that?”
Fuck everything else.
