Page 79 of Whispered Promises

“Oh, he’s being so brave,” she exclaims, her excitement evident even if it’s still a teasing whisper down my neck. “So now we acknowledge the positive progress with another treat. Here, give him this slowly with the other hand.”

After he takes it from my hand, he turns and strolls back to a cat bed in the corner of the room and curls up.

Before I can ask what any of this shit means, she grabs my face and kisses the fucking life out of me.

So filthy talk, making sure she’s fed, and feeding snacks to her cat are the way to her heart.

Noted. I’ve got this shit down.

Wrapping my arms around her back, I pull her into me, and she straddles my lap without either of us coming up for air. Fuck, I don’t need oxygen when I have her.

Sliding my hands down, I grip under her thighs as I stand and lay her across the bed, covering her body with mine. The feel of Rosy under me drives me insane.

I sink into the feel of her breathing, the flex of her throat against my palm as she moves her mouth against mine. Her lower body squirms up against me, seeking friction, and her stomach pushes against my dick. When my balls start feeling tight, I pull back, not wanting to blow my load before I’ve even tasted her. Because sure as shit, I’ve imagined this moment so many fucking times.

I bury my face in her neck and feel her pulse thundering loudly, erratically, then lick up the column of her throat, tasting the sweet, salty taste of her earlier sweat. Fuck. She writhes and arches up against me, then I bite down before licking and sucking, moving farther down her chest.

“Taste so fucking good,” I grind out, feeling feral as I tug open the zip of Rosy’s hoodie and shove down the base layer she has underneath. There’s no bra underneath, and I need a fucking moment to process what’s in front of me. Whatever magic clothing this is, I’m buying her more. With my face still hovering above her chest, her nipples are fucking inches from my mouth.

Tight and pink.

Her pants come out faster now, her skin pebbling as my breaths leave me.

“Please, Nate,” she moans, all pleading and begging. She’s impossible to deny, especially when she’s begging for me.

Flattening my tongue again, I lick just below her breast, gliding up the curve, over the bump of her nipple, and up her chest to her neck. Stopping just below her ear, I murmur, “Your taste…it’s better than I imagined.”

There aren’t enough flowery words to describe her; none would be right or enough. There’s no word to describe her taste, her scent…her.

I lean back on my heels and curl my fingers into the waistband of her leggings. Pausing, I watch, waiting for her to protest. When she nods eagerly, I yank them down so quickly the breath leaves her lungs and her thighs jiggle.

Not giving her the chance to feel uncertain, I bury my face into the cotton of her sunshine yellow underwear. Shoving my hands beneath her thighs, I split her open and suction a trail up the middle of the fabric, chasing the wetness she’s leaking.

Her hands lash out, clawing when she’s unable to latch onto the short hair on my skull as I suck her rounded clit.

Hips rising, she chases more, a needy whine leaving her lips. Keeping my mouth wrapped around her sensitive clit, I take a moment to appreciate her breasts rising and falling with her pants. Her grip on me tightens, attempting to hold me in place. But I tug back, enjoying the bite of pain that scrapes along my scalp as her nails attempt to dig in.

“Please, I’m so close,” she whimpers, twitching with her need for release. She doesn’t try to get there herself, though.

No, she waits for me.

She pleads me for it.

“I want to see your pussy when I make it come for me.”

Her hands shove into the waistband before I get the chance to tug them down myself. She’s shimmying, contorting, trying to rip them off even with me still kneeling between her legs. Finally they drop to the bed beside me, and as she starts tugging off her top, I grab the damp yellow fabric and stuff it into my pocket.

As her legs fall back open around me, my body locks up tight.

She’s fucking breathtaking. Glistening.

Bare skin everywhere, so soft that it scalds me.

I need to touch her, to feel her. Curling my hands around her hips, I throw her legs over my shoulders and focus my attention on her exposed pussy. Flicking my gaze up her flushed body, I see her watching me. She gnaws on her lip, brow creased in frustration.

“Do you want me to feast on you, little tease?” I blow a long, hot breath against her parted skin; her head tilts back, her legs tensing and tugging me closer.

“Words, Rosy. Tell me. What do you want?” I inhale deeply, fighting the urge to dive in, as I wait for her to give me what I asked for. Fuck, she smells perfect. I can still smell the fruity scent of her but mingled with it is the subtle salty scent of her sweat.