The old school music rolled through the speakers, smooth and low.
When I finally reached her, my hand slid down her ass.
Warm skin.
Soft.
Just what I needed after not getting pussy for two months.
“Look at you,” I muttered.
She tried to keep that cocky expression she’d been wearing all night, but the second I kissed her neck, her breath caught just a little.
“Relax,” I said quietly near her ear.
“I got you.”
She let out a slow breath.
“You talk real confident.”
“I don’t say things I’m not sure about.”
My hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her closer.
“You still sure about this?” I asked.
She looked up at me.
Her eyes were clear.
No haze.
No running.
Just her.
“Are you?” she asked.
Instead of answering, I picked her up and set her down on the balcony bench. I was hungry for her, but I took my time.
Slow.
No rush.
Her hands slid down the top of my head as I ate her pussy. She moaned softly as I tongue-kissed her pussy. The tension that had been building since Monaco finally snapped.
The road trip.
The way she kept looking at me like she was trying to figure me out.
All of it led here.
I pulled back, rubbing her clit, just enough to look at her again.
“You feel that?”
She nodded.
