I am not prepared for his mouth to press to my core, where I am wet and swollen.
I bolt upright off the bed, scooting my hips back, but he captures me. His smile is dark and wicked. The smile of raw masculine pride that shifts abruptly to confusion. His thumb strokes my inner thigh. He is patient. Waiting. Watching. "I thought most women liked that sort of thing."
I don't have the words to tell him that no one has ever done that to me before. I’ve never trusted anyone to…do that. It’s too exposed. Too open. But I don’t have the words I need to explain it. The words to make it not sound pathetic and insecure. It’s something I’ve read about in novels but never experienced and now that I have, it is shocking in its intimacy.
But I can't say that because my throat is blocked off and my eyes burn.
If he notices, he doesn't say anything. Instead, he crawls slowly up my body until I can see only him, blocking out everything.
"Trust me?" He brushes his lips against mine and I can taste the lingering warmth from my body on his mouth.
It’s kind of scary how he can read my mind. But I’m not questioning it. It’s an escape. Words I don’t need to find.
I make a rough sound in my throat as his fingers find my heat once more. He slides my panties to one side, kissing my throat. My chest. Inching his way down my body as I grow more and more tense with each slide of his fingers through my sex.
He makes a warm sound as he nuzzles me where I am exposed and vulnerable and aching. "Beautiful," he whispers.
And when he touches his tongue to me, I forget my own name, forget everything but the touch of this man that rocks my world.
Josh
I've found heaven. I'm a shitty poet but watching Abby surge off my bed when I barely touched her sent a spike of raw male power through my veins. I've been around the block a time or two but I've never seen anyone respond like she just did.
I slide my tongue over her clit again, gently, and her hips jerk in response. Pleasure, hot and thick, washes over me. Watching her, seeing her body respond—I've never been so f*ck
ing turned on in my life. My entire body hums with awareness as I taste her, making little designs with my tongue and listening to her cries.
She's so f*ck
ing wet. I could lose myself in her, but I can't. This is about her. Not me and the f*ck
ed up shit keeping me from returning fully from the war. This is one hundred percent about Abby.
I slip one finger inside her, and she damn near bucks off the bed.
"Holy shit that feels good." A ragged cry. A sob. She's so f*ck
ing gorgeous. Her skin is flushed and damp as I continue. Touching. Teasing. Tasting.
There's something simple about going down on her. About using my mouth and my fingers to drive her wild. It's deeply f*ck
ing erotic knowing that I'm the first man to touch her here like this. A primitive need rises inside me, preening that she's mine, only mine. That she's responding to my touch—to me. f*ck
ed up, broken me.
I slip another finger inside her and her cries are stronger now. Her thighs clench against my shoulders. She's glorious, spread out on my bed, her body thrumming in pleasure with every stroke of my tongue. I want to make her come. I want to hear her scream.
Her body arches with each slide of my fingers. I slip my thumb down, stroking the sensitive skin just below my fingers.
She comes then in a sudden burst of tension, her body spasming around my fingers. Wetness floods against my tongue as I draw it out, strumming her body like a high-tension wire.
It is only after that I slide my fingers slowly from her body and crawl up to lie next to her. She burrows closer, one thigh sliding between mine, one arm around my waist.
She kisses my neck and makes a sleepy sound.
I can't help feeling really f*ck
ing pleased with myself even as disappointment tries to wrestle the fleeting pleasure stolen away from me.
I close my eyes and just let myself be. I'm there. And for once, I'm not sliding down a black hole of alcohol-induced darkness.
"That was…pretty amazing," she whispers after a long silence.
I kiss the top of her head. Her hair is soft and springy against my lips. I think I love her hair. It's wild and bold and daring—just like Abby.
I grin in the darkness. "You're welcome."
She slaps my chest even as she laughs. "You sound so pleased with yourself." She leans up. "But you didn't…"
"It's not about me right now." I lean up, cupping her face. "This was about you." I kiss her gently. “Distraction accomplished.”
She kisses me, and I'm lost again in the moment. In the sensations that are all Abby. Part of me can't believe she's here. That she's actually in my bed.
That she doesn't know how f*ck
ed up things really are with me.