She gasps for air, and I let up on my hold only a touch.
“What’s it going to be?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” she responds, too shy to ask for it. Well, that’s not what I want to hear, so I’m going to have to force her to beg for it. I know she wants me, and I know she wants this. It’s getting her out of her comfort zone that I need to work on.
“Okay, then I will decide for you. I’ll use the towel.”
I release her neck and reach for the towel just as she says, “No.”
I pause and ask, “No, what?”
“I . . . I don’t want the towel.”
I smirk and then bring my hands up to her breasts where I gently play with them, letting my fingers pinch and tug on her nipples. “Then what do you want?”
She takes a few shallow breaths before she says, “Your . . . your tongue.”
I moan into her ear, letting her know I’m pleased, as I say, “Good choice.”
And then without warning, I spin her around so her ass is against the window now, and I pin her hands up again. “Keep these there and spread your legs wider.”
She does as she’s told, and when I think she’s ready, I press a kiss to the swell of her breast, and then drag my tongue to her nipple where I lap at it a few times. She writhes against my mouth, wanting more, but I take my time. I go at my own pace, and when I’m ready, I move down her stomach, kissing the entire way until I’m kneeling in front of her.
Her breaths are short and jagged now, her stomach completely hollowed out, her pelvis leaning toward me as I kiss her pubic bone and then her hip flexor and then her inner thigh. She groans in anticipation, so I move to the other side, driving her wild with desire, and when she’s had enough, I spread her with two fingers and then bring my tongue to her clit, lapping her up in one long stroke.
“Oh my God,” she nearly screams as her legs tremble in front of me.
“So fucking good,” I say as I dive my tongue against her clit, loving every goddamn second of this. She tastes so good. She feels so good.
So right.
As if this is where I’m supposed to be.
This is what I’m supposed to be doing.
I spread her even wider and use my tongue to flick against her clit.
“Oh . . . oh, Breaker,” she cries as one of her hands falls to my head. Normally, I’d tell her to put her hand back where I put it, but I allow her to touch me because I feel like she needs that connection.
Her fingers sift through my hair and tug on the short strands as I continue to lap at her clit over and over again, loving the way her grip on my hair grows tighter as I bring her closer and closer to the edge.
“Feels . . . feels so good,” she says as her body slides against the window. She must need a better position, so I lift, grip her around the waist, and then slowly lower her to the floor. I press my hands against her inner thighs and spread her even wider, giving me much better access.
I slide my tongue along her slit in a long, slow motion, and she tries to clench her legs together, but I don’t allow it.
“Oh my God,” she whispers as her hand finds my hair again.
With my nose pressed against her mound, I flatten my tongue against her arousal and slide it up and down, watching as her breathing picks up, her mouth falls open, and she tugs on my hair.
“Fuck, Breaker. Jesus, I’m . . . I’m . . .”
I pick up my pace, once again, flicking fast at her clit repeatedly, watching her excitement grow. Her pelvis arches, both of her hands fall to my head where they keep me in place, and she voluntarily spreads her legs as her chest rises and lets out a deep moan.
“Oh God!” she screams as she comes, her pussy drenched. I lap it all up, licking her until she has nothing left to give.
Her hands loosen in my hair, and they fall to her sides as she attempts to catch her breath.
Satisfied, I lift from the floor, and as I stare down at her, my erection painfully in need of some attention, I say, “Get dressed and meet me at my place in ten. I’ll order food, and we can play a game.”
And with that, I head back to my apartment to jack off in the shower.
Holy fuck.
Holy fucking fuck.
Now it makes sense why I’ve held out.
It’s her taste.
Her body.
Her everything that I’ve wanted . . . probably for longer than I think.
Chapter Eighteen
LIA
I stand in front of Breaker’s apartment door, my clit still throbbing after what he did to me, unsure if I should knock or simply walk in.
Normally, I’d just walk in, but after the past twenty-four hours, I’m not sure what I should be doing now.
Breaker went down on me.
He not only went down on me, but he made it seem like I was his Thanksgiving feast and he was starving. Never in my life have I felt such euphoric pleasure, and that was with his tongue. And he asked for nothing in return. Just took what he wanted and left.
I have no idea how to process it all.
And even though I want to hide away in my apartment because I don’t know how to act, there’s no way he’d allow that. Also, I want answers. I want to know what’s going on.
So I grip the door handle and walk into his apartment to find him sitting on his couch. His hair is wet now, and he’s wearing a different pair of shorts, but that’s it, just shorts.
I’ve seen him with his shirt off plenty of times, but he normally has a shirt on whenever we hang out. Not sure what changed today, but I’m not going to complain. He’s so handsome . . . sexy, with his carved pecs and his strong, muscular arms. Not to mention the stack of abs he has for a stomach and the deep V that’s sculpted into his hips. He’s so good-looking that I’ve told myself through all these years never to look because he was my friend, but now . . . now I’m allowing it.
“There you are,” he says in a jovial tone, as if he didn’t just have his head between my legs. “I ordered Thai. Should be here in twenty. How do you feel about playing Codenames? We haven’t played that in a bit.”
I stand there, stunned.
Because the man who I’m staring at right now is very different from the man who was just gripping my throat, telling me I was a good girl for listening to him. The man in front of me is my best friend. The guy I’ve grown comfortable with, the man I’ve relied on for so long. But the man from ten minutes ago, he’s . . . he’s on another level, and I don’t know how to handle it.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Uh . . . not really,” I say as I cross my arms. “I’m just a touch confused.”
He pats the couch. “Come talk to me.”
I hold up my hand. “I think I’ll stand here, thank you.”
“Okay.” When he smiles, I can see in his eyes that he knows exactly what he’s doing. “You can talk there. What’s up, Lia?”
Lia . . .
Lia?
Just so casual. Totally neglecting the fact that he dominated me in my own bedroom while using my full name and commanding my body to do things I’ve never done.