She blinks. "What?"
"I said, that was fucking hot," I say again gently as I gather her up, pull her back into my lap, thankful when she sighs and softens in my arms. "You were so turned on, you came with all your clothes on."
Though still embarrassed, she smiles. "I've just never…no one's ever…been there when it happens."
The thought of her touching herself tortures me. But I smile. Hold her closer. Say with absolute honesty, "I'm glad I was the first. Can I be the second too?"
When she laughs, I kiss her smiling lips. And then she slides off my lap and strides into the kitchen for a glass of water. I watch her ass the whole way. She has on crew socks. Why is that so fucking cute?
I lean back, tuck my hand behind my head. "I see how it is--you're through kissing me for tonight?"
"Never," she says after taking a drink. She's sheepish again though. "I'm just not sure how that happened."
"Oh, I think you know," I say on a laugh. "Your clit is magic."
"Magic, huh?"
"Yup." I have a thought that's going to drive her wild, and my poor, engorged cock twitches at the prospect. "A visual aid." I get up and stride to the kitchen, picking up a peach from the bowl of fruit on her counter. She hops up to sit on the table, crossing her dangling ankles, watching me, teasing the hot twist in my chest. Once I find a paring knife, I lean back against the counter, eyes on my hands as I work like I don't care, my heart thumping the truth.
"See, you've gotta be careful with a peach," I start, turning it over in my hand until the crease is on display. "Take the tip, drag it down the split." I circle the fruit, then put down the knife, take the peach in both hands, and twist. It pops apart. "Don't fight the pit. You'll never win. Work the flesh instead." I loosen it, saying, "If I had to guess, when you touched yourself before, you went for quick. Quiet. Right?"
She nods.
So do I. Once the pit is free, I flip it over my shoulder with the knife. Because I am an insufferable ace, it lands in the sink with a thunk and a breathy chuckle from Molly.
"There's no rush with me, Molly. No shame. Just you and me and the two of us figuring out what you like, what you want, what feels good." I set everything down but one half of the peach. It's in my palm, slick and juicy. I thumb the edge of the hole where the pit was. "Sometimes, it barely takes anything." Pausing at the apex, I circle slowly. "Sometimes, you'll need more. Pressure. Depth." Firmly, I stroke the ridge smooth. "Maybe you want to be stroked like this." My thumb drags a line. "Maybe like this." It circles again. Then, I tap. "But the real hero is rhythm. Too fast, too soon, you burnout. Too slow, you'll never get there. Find the right pace?" I look up. Hold her gaze. Bring my sticky thumb to my mouth and suck the juice off. She stares at my mouth, mesmerized. "It's a climb, not a race. Feeling it stack until you can't stand it anymore. The sweetest part is worth the wait." I take a very sexual bite of the peach, which explodes in .against my tongue I don't wipe the juice from my until she sees it, pinning her with my gaze when I swipe it away with my thumb.
"That." Her eyes are anchored to my mouth. "When are we doing that?"
"Whenever you want." I take another bite, vibrating.
"I don't have to, like, clock a hundred hours of kissing first?"
"Nope", I answer, laughing.
She practically flies off the table and in my direction. "Put me in, Coach."
When I catch her, I'm still laughing, which gets worse when she tries to climb me. I help her out, picking her up so her legs are around my waist. "Rain check."
Her pout is glorious. "Not fair." I lean in to kiss her, and she melts, humming. "You taste good." The words are hazy and dreamy, and I wish to god we didn't have somewhere to be.
"We have practice," I remind her, my hands full of her ass cheeks.
"Fuck practice." She angles for a kiss, which I grant.
"I love when you cuss." I kiss her again. "I should go."
"You cannot finger fuck that peach and then leave, Grey," she informs me.
I almost choke at the wordsfinger fuckfrom her lips. "Oh, I can't?"
When I shift to set her down, she latches onto me with her arms and legs like a koala. "Don't you dare."
I sigh. Wrap an arm around her waist so I can brush her hair from her cheek. How can I deny her? How could I ever walk away?
I can quit anytime. I'm in control. I know what I'm doing.
And I tell myself lie after lie as I kiss her, dump her ass back on the table, and smirk like the greedy bastard I am.
