Careful to keep my balance, I pivot toward her. The steps between us adjust for our difference in height. I move closer.
She draws away, arching backward over the handrail.
“Watch out!” I grip her waist.
She straightens up. There’s more light here from the hallway below than at the top of the staircase.
My hand still clutching her, I stare at her beautiful face. “It’s pure madness,” I wheeze, “what you’re doing to me, Margot.”
She looks at my mouth, her chest heaving.
Is she fighting her desire? Is she going to run away?
Her lips part on a whisper, “One last time.”
CHAPTER27
JONAS
My arm constricts around Margot’s waist. My other hand flies to her cheek, cups it, pulls her head closer.
When our lips meet, her arms lock around me like she never wants to let me go. I crush her body to mine until there’s no space left between us. She melts into me, hot and sweet and eager, and her heart races against my chest.
God, the softness of her lips, the feel of her curves against me… I brush my lips across hers, gentle for now, holding her face between my hands. Her breath flutters over my skin. I don’t want to rush this.
Easier said than done.
Remote-controlled by the stiff cock sandwiched between our tummies, I probe the seam of her lips. She grants access at once, and I plunge inside her mouth. Margot’s arms reach up. Her hands tangle in my hair. All I can do now is slow down the pace and the force of my tongue fucking her mouth. It works for a short while. But then she wraps a leg around my hips and I come undone.
The kiss becomes frantic. I’m devouring her mouth with deep, powerful strokes of my tongue. It makes me dizzy. She tastes delicious—better than cherry pie, better than I remember from last night. There’s a new edge to her flavor. It must be the sour tang of our imminent separation, the knowledge that I’ll never hold, kiss, or fuck this beautiful woman again.
We pause for air before we start all over again. I’m reeling. When Margot’s hands race up my back, gripping my shoulders tightly, desperately, I lean her on the wall and rest my hand against its cold surface to steady myself.
We break away from each other, panting. Margot opens her eyes. As we recover, the mist over her gray irises dissolves. She trains her eyes on mine. There’s sadness, confusion, and questions in her gaze.
I won’t be answering them. Instead, I want Margot in the throes of passion, the way she was last night—careless, playful, insatiable. I need her to let go so she can give herself to me without reservations.Without regret.
My palms travel down her sides and squeeze her butt. It isn’t a gentle caress, but a bossy, deliberate sign of what I want, a reminder of where we’re headed.
“Wait,” she exhales, pulling back.
She peels off her pajamas as fast as she can, revealing her toned figure and smooth skin. I undress on the double, tossing my sweatshirt and pajamas on the steps. Moving closer, I gawk at her. A chill runs over her skin in response. Her nipples harden, begging for attention. Within seconds, I’m all over her. My mouth sucks her breasts, my hands roam over the small of her back, her buttocks, then back up to her soft, round breasts.
Moments later, I release her nipples and knead her bottom once again, before stroking the inside of her thighs. Opening them.
Eagerly, she spreads them. I bring my hands to her pussy, parting her folds with my thumbs. We both look down. Her flesh glistens in the dim light, waxed and slick with pent-up desire.
Almost shaking in anticipation of the joy that awaits me, I kneel between her legs. Margot sets her right foot two steps up. An animalistic growl comes out of me. It seems to rise from beneath my throat, to travel up all the way from my aching cock. I bring my mouth upon her sex, and let my tongue dance around her slick, hot, sensitive clit. A strangled gasp leaves her lips.
I increase the intensity of my movements, licking and sucking until her legs start to quake. My cock is straining, throbbing with want, but I’m determined to ignore it until Margot comes against my mouth. I trace my tongue from her clit to her entrance, dip inside, and trail it back. It’s tempting to slip a finger or two into her pussy and pump, but I resist. I want her first orgasm to be clitoral only. I flick my tongue faster, press harder.
“Oh, God,” she bites out, writhing. “It’s too much… I can’t…”
She tries to wiggle away but I grip her hips and hold her in place.
“Fuck me,” she begs. “Or finger-fuck me, anything, just fill me, please!”
The crudeness of her words, coupled with the despair in her voice, breaks my resolve. I close my lips around her clit and push two fingers into her sopping vagina. She comes at once, shuddering. I redefine my goals. My new short-term objective is to prolong her orgasm. My fingers keep moving up and down as I suck her clit hard, reveling in her reactions. She rides the waves of her release, squeaking, thrashing, muttering dirty words, repeating my name, calling out to God.
