“Please what, baby?”
“I don’t even know, I just need more.”
Need.Not want.
I lick my lips, my grin half challenge, half promise.
Leaning my head down, I flick my tongue out, focusing on her clit until I find the spot that makes her whimper and grab ahold of my hair.
The taste of her short-circuits my brain. Everything else disappears.
It’s just Sasha, and she’s telling me everything she needs with her body, hips bucking and thighs clamping tight around my head.
I don’t stop until her legs are shaking and she’s gasping, pulling my hair so hard it stings.
I draw it out, pushing her higher, giving her everything she wants. When she falls apart, she cries out, shuddering, covering her face with her palms like she’s embarrassed.
Her hands drop to my shoulders, nails digging into my skin, anchoring herself to me as the orgasm rips through her.
I kiss my way up her stomach slowly, waiting until her breath slows.
When I finally reach her, she lets out a shaky laugh and pulls me in, her arms wrapping around my neck. We lay there for a minute, listening to each other’s heartbeats.
“Do you always have to be so good at everything?”
I smile.
I want to say something clever, but all that comes out is a laugh.
She runs her fingers up and down my back, and somehow that feels more intimate than what we just did.
I spent months fucking other girls, trying to forget about her, trying to convince myself that I didn’t need her, and yet here I am… wondering why the hell I thought I could ever do that.
“Wanna go out and do something?” I ask, hoping she’ll want to at least hang out with everyone.
Shaking her head, she pulls the covers over herself. “Can we maybe just hang out here? I don’t feel like being around other people right now…”
“Whatever you need, Pixie.”
I’m curled up in bed, watching a movie with Sasha, when my phone rings.
I ignore it.
There’s not a single thing that can take me from this moment right now. Not after everything I just did to her.
She’s better than I could have ever imagined, and fuck did I imagine it. Every single whimper and moan made me wonder why I thought I could ever dream up a single scenario that would have ever come close to the real thing.
Cause damn, the real thing is fucking amazing.
My phone rings about two more times before I roll myeyes and grab it from the nightstand, slamming the ignore button and sending a text in response.
Me
Fuck. Off.
Lucas calls again. So I decline… again.
Me
