She stilled under him. “Most people send a card.”
“I don’t like writing.” He spread her open with both fingers and touched his tongue to her hard clit, holding her still when she would have jumped. “I love licking you.”
He settled in to feast, fucking her deep and hard with his mouth. The world around him vanished, his entire focus on the wetness on his tongue, her trembling thighs surrounding his head, the gasping cries she gave. He used his thumb to keepstimulating her clit, even after she started coming, sensing she wouldn’t be satisfied with just one orgasm. He loved it when she hit multiple peaks. It didn’t always happen, but when it did, he felt like a god.
When she was replete, a boneless heap beneath him, he stretched up her body and kissed her lax mouth. “Livvy, can I fuck you?” he whispered.
“Yes,” she whispered, then gasped when he readjusted his body and sank inside her, her heat making his toes curl. With the exception of the time in the woods, he’d worn a condom. She might be on birth control, but he wasn’t a man who took chances.
Except with her, he supposed. He should pull out and suit up but this was such perfection. Fucking her bare sent him back to when they’d been young and hot and committed to one another.
He pressed his lips against her ear. “I’ve never been naked like this with anyone but you.” Her pussy contracted around him at the confession, and he had to swallow to keep speaking. “Just like no woman’s gone down on me but you.”
Her head snapped back, incredulity edging out the passion in her gaze. “Are you serious?”
The sense of vulnerability was overhelming. So was the freedom. “Extremely. I told you it had been a long time.”
“But that long?”
“Yes.” He worked his way deeper. “Those words are exactly what I want to hear when my cock is out, by the way. Say them with more excitement.”
She huffed out a laugh, her breasts jiggling. She tugged at her bonds. “Let me touch you.”
Fearing she might tweak a muscle, he complied and then entwined his hands with hers. He pressed them flat against the mattress as he withdrew and shafted back inside.
He grew selfish and greedy as he fucked her, shoving harder. He thought he could hold out longer, but then she turned her head, her teeth sinking into his shoulder, her orgasm tightening her pussy around him. He came with a strangled shout, his come spurting out of him in great spasms.
He returned to reality in slow degrees when she shifted her body under his and brought her hands to rest on his shoulders, her fingers caressing his skin. He turned his head and kissed her inner wrist, where three dots decorated her skin, so tiny one could miss them. She’d had them since she was twenty-one or so. He remembered the first time he’d noticed. “Where did you get this tattoo?”
“New York.”
He nodded, closing his eyes, a nagging sensation still tugging at his consciousness. He would move in a second, once he could get his shit together, but right now this felt so fucking good, resting on top of her while she stroked his shoulders and hair. If he could, he would stay here forever.
Boston.
D.C.
Los Angeles.
New York.
He frowned, trying to shoo the wriggling thoughts as his brain struggled to piece together parts of a puzzle he hadn’t been aware existed. He didn’t need his head to ruin this perfect night.
He pulled out of her and took care of the condom, dropping it into the wastebasket by the bed. Then he ran his hand up her side, urging her onto her stomach.
Her lashes fluttered. “Wha—?”
“Let me rub your back,” he murmured.
She complied, and he had her entire lovely back before him. He ran his hands over her shoulders and lower, rubbing the flesh, working out the knots there.
His fingers brushed over vibrant ink, so colorful it felt alive. She had a watercolor tattoo of a gold compass centered on her spine, splashes of soothing purple and blue and green behind it. He traced the scriptNabove the arrow at the top. It stood fornorth, notNicholas.
He drew a circle over the compass. She turned her head so her cheek rested against the pillow and sighed. He drew another circle. “A box,” she murmured.
“What?”
“Draw a square, not a circle.”
