“Now, find your clit and make slow circles,” Hudson tells me. “Can you feel it?”
I nod, biting my lip, my legs twitching as pleasure zings through me.
“Don’t come. Not yet,” he warns, and somehow that makes it even more intense.
Before I get too close, he grabs my wrist and pulls me back onto his lap. His mouth finds mine, and I melt against him, moaning into the kiss. My body feels like it’s on fire, and I move against him, chasing that sensation I can’t get enough of, desperate to see where it takes me.
Right when I’m about to find out, he breaks away, leaving me panting and dizzy.
“No…why did you stop?”
He smirks. “Patience. Now, scoot back some,” he says, and I do, letting him guide me until I’m perched on his thighs, open and aching. Then he brings his finger up, pressing it to my lips.
“Open.”
I do.
“Lick my finger, Ivory. Get it all nice and wet.”
I close my lips, my tongue swirling as I watch his eyes darken.
“Good girl,” he whispers, and it makes my insides clench.
He slides his hand between my legs and teases my clit, then slowly, so slowly, slips his finger inside me. I gasp, clutching his shoulders, feeling the stretch.
“Fuck, Ivory. You’re so tight.”
He pushes in deeper and meets something that makes me jerk. I know what it is. My barrier. My virginity. He pauses.
“You good?”
I nod. “Yes…yes, don’t stop.”
“Move your hips for me, baby,” he says softly. “Let yourself feel it. I want you to come like this.”
I start to move, rocking my hips against his hand. The pleasure builds, until I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but let it wash over me.
“That’s it. Now let go.”
I cry out, my body shaking as I clench tight around his finger, falling apart for him.
My first orgasm.
He holds me through it, kissing my hair, my cheeks, my lips.
Hudson makes me feel wanted… alive. And there’s no one else I’d rather have had this experience with.
He scoops me up, carrying me through the suite. He nudges my bedroom door open with his foot and lays me gently on the bed. The sheets are cool, the room dim except for the city lights painting silver patterns on the wall. He tucks the comforter around me, treating me like I’m something precious. His fingers brushing my cheek is the last thing I feel before sleep drags me under.
7
HUDSON
The morning sunis barely up, and I’m already pacing the floors. My nerves are like live wires, pulled so tight it feels like I might snap. My mouth is bone-dry, bitter with regret, and the lingering taste of last night’s wine.
Hers.
Ivory’s.
