Page 103 of Take This to Your Grave

I look up at her.

Her thumb brushes my lower lip.

Fuck.

I drag my mouth slowly across her skin, paying attention to every change in her breathing, every tiny response. The closer I get to her pussy, the more rigid she becomes.

Anticipating.

“Tell me what you want.” Selfishly, I just want to hear her say it.

She rolls her eyes, playful. “Want me to fill out a survey?”

“I’d make it multiple choice.”

“Shut up,” she giggles

“Could even include a Likert scale.”

She fists my hair at the back of my head, pulling at the roots hard enough that it stings. My eyes nearly roll back.

I catch her around the waist and pull her closer, but Serena has decided she's done letting me set the pace. She presses forward until I have to lean back to accommodate her, one knee coming up onto the mattress beside my hip. I laugh against her mouth, and she kisses me again before I can make whatever smart-ass comment she clearly knows is coming. I shift farther onto the bed, taking her with me, until my shoulders meet the mattress and she settles over me. For a moment, she looks entirely too pleased with herself. Then I roll us over, and the surprised laugh she lets out might be my new favorite sound.

Her body is warm beneath mine, her mouth hungry against my throat. I drag my lips along her jaw and down her neck, and when my teeth graze the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh, she arches.

“Fuck.” I could live on that word in her voice.

Something warm and vicious unfurls low in my stomach.

I press a kiss to the inside of one knee.

Then higher.

Another on the inside of her other thigh.

Higher.

Her fingers twist into the blanket.