Thank fuck.
I lean in and kiss her, slowly. I don’t touch her anywhere else yet. Just my mouth on hers, and my hands on her jaw. I let her set the pace until her fingers uncurl from each other and land on my waist, then my sides, sliding up my back.
I move one hand down and cup her breast through her top. She’s soft and full, and her nipple is already tight against my hand through her bra. I squeeze gently. She gasps into my mouth.
My other hand slides down to the front of her jeans. I press my palm flat over her, between her legs, and rub her slowly through the denim.
She makes a surprised noise and rocks against my hand.
I keep kissing her. I keep rubbing. She starts moving against me in a small, steady rhythm, her hands fisting in my hair now, little sounds coming out of her throat with every press of my palm. I find the general area where her clit would be and rub it through the seam of her jeans. I work that spot until her breath is uneven and her hips are chasing me.
When she’s making the right noises, I unbutton her jeans. Draw the zip down. I slip my hand inside, under her panties, and into warm, wet heat.
Fuck.
She’s drenched. Hot and slick against my fingers. Her hips jump when I touch her clit, bare skin to bare skin, and she lets out a sharp little gasp against my mouth.
“Nice and wet,” I murmur.
She moans deep when I start circling her clit with the pad of my middle finger. I work her there, watching her face, watching her mouth fall open and her lashes flutter. Her hips move against my hand in uneven little pushes.
I keep kissing her while I rub her. Her jeans and panties are in the way. I want her bare.
I draw my hand out and hook my thumbs into the waistband of her jeans and panties both. I tug them down over her hips. She’s wearing little ankle boots, and the denim gets caught on them.
Turns out that I’m a little rusty, too.
She makes a small, embarrassed sound and tries to kick them off, and one of the boots gets tangled in the jeans, and she hops on one foot for a second to balance.
“Told you I was rusty,” she says, giggling.
I catch her hip to steady her.
“You’re perfect.”
She gets the first boot off. The second one comes free with the jeans, and the whole mess lands in a pile on her rug. Her top is still on. Her bra is, too. Everything below the waist is bare.
I keep my eyes on hers, even though I want to look so badly.
“Lie down for me.”
She does. Slowly. She sits on the edge of the bed and then lowers herself back against the pillows, her hair fanning out on the white linen.
I take her ankle and gently pull her legs apart.
Her cheeks go red again when I look at her. I can’t help that. I’m looking. She’s pink everywhere. Her face, her mouth, her pussy. Her folds are pale and so fucking wet, her clit is swollen from where I worked her, and her thighs are the softest things I’ve ever seen.
I lower myself onto the bed, get between her legs, and slide my hands under her thighs to lift them over my shoulders.
“Ridge,” she says from under her arm, “you don’t have to?—”
I lean in and suckle on her clit.
Her back arches right off the bed.
The sound she makes comes from somewhere deep in her throat, a strangled, astonished noise that goes straight to my cock. Her hand flies down from her face and grips the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair, and she holds me there like she’s afraid I’ll change my mind.
“Don’t stop,” she chokes out.
