I nod again. “I know.”
“It’s going to work out. Do you trust me?”
There’s only one answer to that. “Of course.”
“And IES needs you,” he says. “That doesn’t change either.”
I believe him. “Okay.”
“Spread your legs and hold on.”
My whole body seems to melt into the bed, but I do what he says. My hands fist the duvet, and I spread my thighs for him. There is simply no other option.
He just kisses me first. Our mouths are hungry, but it’s a slow, deep kiss. A kiss that says it’s been way too long. Our first kiss after saying I love you.
It doesn’t feel new. I think we’ve both always known that this—we—were inevitable.
He drags his mouth to my ear. “You can be as loud as you want to be here. We’re the only room on this floor.”
I suck in a breath and let it out. “Why do you think I wanted to come to your room?”
He chuckles, and the vibration rumbles through me.
Then he kisses down my neck across my collarbone and down to my left breast. He teases my nipple with his tongue and lips while playing with the other with his fingers. I’m writhing beneath him almost immediately. It’s been way too long. I thought of him every night. Had dirty dreams. Used my vibrator as much as possible. But there is no substitute for Everett Clark’s hands and mouth.
After he has my nipples firm and tingling, he works his way down the rest of my body until he’s nestled between my thighs. He parts my folds with his thumbs, humming his pleasure. “I missed you.”
I laugh lightly. “She missed you, too,” I tell him.
He chuckles and gives my clit kiss. “We’ll never be parted again.”
My laugh is cut off when he gives me a long firm lick.
He doesn’t let me up for air for even a second after that. Licking, swirling, sucking until I’m wiggling and gasping his name. Then he adds a finger. Then two.
I don’t even try to hold back. I let the orgasm coil fast and tight and then let go in a sharp, glorious explosion of color and sensation.
“Yes! Everett, oh yes!”
But he hasn’t finished, and he isn’t going to be easy on me.
“How many orgasms have you had without me? Since your mom‘s kitchen at Christmas?” he asks.
I’m still seeing pretty glittery stars behind my eyelids, and I shake my head. “I don’t know. A few.”
He crawls up my body and slips his fingers between my lips.
Instinctively, I suck, tasting myself. That makes the pulsing between my legs go on even longer.
“How many?” he asks again.
My eyes open and lock with his. He pulls his fingers from my mouth.
Oh, I know what he’s getting at. I swallow. “A couple of times a week. I tried to resist.”
Plus, I’m living at my parents' house. I can’t just do that whenever I want to.
He quickly does the math. “So at least twelve or fourteen.”
