“Well, that depends on you,Pahe,” I growl, trying and failing to clear the huskiness from my voice. “I can set you up in one of the spare rooms.”
“Or…?” she whispers, her chest brushing mine as she sways closer.
My hands settle on her hips, holding her a fraction away. This has to be her decision.
“Or,” I whisper, dipping my head to press my forehead to hers, “you can share with me.”
She slides her nose along mine, her lips so close I can feel her breath. “Are you a blanket hog?”
“Horribly so,” I admit, my voice low. “You’ll have to cuddle close the whole night.”
Her lips find mine. The sweetness of her desire and the fire of her need hit me like a goddamn tidal wave. For a week, I’ve been chasing her, wooing her, peeling back the layers of tension that have stretched between us over the years. This isn’t just new—it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Familiarity and heat, comfort and edge.
I kiss her deep, backing her against the wall in the entryway. Her hands clutch at my sides, bunching my shirt, needing more. One of my hands slides down to grip the soft curve of her ass, the other buries itself in her hair. I feast on her, savoring her taste, her whimpers, the way her body rocks against mine as if she’s trying to satisfy an ache only I can cure.
She whispers my name, breathless. “Please, Josh.”
I almost lose myself right there. I’d give her anything, everything. I’ve waited too long to screw this up now.
I push my thigh between her legs, lifting her just enough so she can press herself against me. She rocks on me, fingers tugging at my shirt, desperate to strip me bare.
“Uh, uh,” I tut, pulling back slightly, my fingers brushing her flushed cheek. “Not yet.”
Molly whimpers, her eyes squeezed shut as she grinds against my thigh.
“Pahe,” I murmur.
Her eyes flutter open, dazed and hazy with desire. “Wh-what does that mean?” she stammers, still moving against me. “You call me that all the?—”
“Freckles,” I interrupt, dropping to my knees suddenly, one hand on her belly to steady her. “They’ve been driving me insane.”
“My… freckles?” she asks, her voice a mix of arousal and confusion. Her hands fall to my head, tangling in my hair.
“These.” I start at her ankle, unbuckling her wedge and sliding it off. I lift her foot to my shoulder, pressing slow, lingering kisses up her calf. “Right here,” I murmur, ducking my head to lick the two freckles that have teased me mercilessly for weeks.
Her skin pebbles with goosebumps as I lave the two spots, her breath hitching.
“These.” I press a kiss to one. “Are.” Another kiss. “All.” And again. “I can think about. They’ve driven me wild,oeh’ sahoehuke.”
Her knees tremble as my hands glide up the insides of her thighs.
“Li no kopi kefr’ah jah oeh’ fruh’ke hu. Li pimiha’ hu cioemi, milhika. Li frae’noti pah zah’na ti. Jah pahe, hur lke, hur milhika jo’ae. Ke pahte hu, mar.”
“I don’t know what you said,” she whispers, her voice thick with desire, her chest heaving.
“I said I’m going to lick you until you come on my tongue,” I reply, voice rough.
I hook a finger under the edge of her underwear, pulling it aside to reveal her. Pink, wet, and glistening with need, she pants hard, her fingers tightening in my hair as I lean in, breathing her in.
“Ah, milhika,” I murmur, my lips brushing her inner thigh. “You destroy me.”
She gasps as my tongue flicks against the seam of her thigh. I trace her, tease her, testing every reaction. I find the spots she loves, the pressure that makes her moan, the rhythm that leaves her trembling.
She tastes better than I ever imagined. I roll my tongue, learning her, listening to every sound she makes, every broken gasp, every whispered plea. I bring her to the brink, then pull her back, over and over, unwilling to let her fall until I’ve had my fill.
Finally, when her begging becomes too much to resist, I slide a finger inside her, curling upward as I search.
Her gasp is sharp, her body arching against me, her hands clutching my hair like I’m the only thing keeping her grounded.
