I shift my weight, widening my stance as he shifts too, his hip pressing into mine as he makes way for his hand. I can feel the hard length of his erection. I want to touch him, but he seems singularly focused on my pleasure first and, hey, I’m never one to complain.
He breaks our kiss, his forehead pressed against my temple as we pant for air. “What color are your—” He goes still, and I know why. I smile like a Cheshire Cat as I feel his fingers brush over my bare pussy. His body coils tight. “Tess…where are your goddamn panties?”
His tone sends my core fluttering as I give him a fake innocent look. “I didn’t think I needed any with this outfit.”
He swoops down to kiss me again, biting at my bottom lip with a sound somewhere between a groan and growl. “Are you trying to kill me here?”
“No, I’m trying to get that tongue-fucking you promised me,” I tease.
“Fuck, you’re trouble,” he says against my lips. “You drive me crazy.” As he speaks, he flips his hand and rubs it over my pussy, cupping me.
I gasp, pressing my hips forward, desperate for more friction.
His fingers delve between my slick folds. “God, Tess, you’re so fucking wet.”
I bite my lip, head tipped back, as I sink into the feeling of him touching me. He circles my clit, sending the warmth spiraling out across my hips. I hum low in my throat. “That feels good.”
He dips his fingers back inside me, drawing out more of my arousal to tease my clit. “What do you like?” he asks, peppering kisses down my neck. “What makes you feel good?”
“Mmm—I—I hate having my ears kissed,” I admit, distracted by his perfectly pleasurable shoulder kisses. “And don’t you dare touch my feet with anything but your hands.”
“Same.” He kisses up my neck, avoiding my ear. “No feet for me. Hard pass. And don’t tickle me either.”
I go still in his arms, opening my eyes to glance up at him.
He goes still too, his fingers still inside me.
“Tickle you?” I say with a raised brow, fighting to contain my smile.
“Yeah, a girl thought it was foreplay or something,” he replies. “I fucking hated it.”
I laugh. “Noted. Hey, Ryan?”
“Hmm?”
“Keep teasing my pussy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he teases, and I laugh out loud. My mind is instantly flooded with images of the day we met on the beach, and he hit me with that damn soccer ball. He called me ‘ma’am’ then, too, and Rachel and I teased him.
I sink back against the wall, letting the waves of warmth wash over me as he works me with his fingers and thumb, alternating between pumping inside me and massaging my needy clit. It feels wonderful, but I need more. I sigh, brushing my hands through his hair as I steal another kiss. “That feels amazing…but I think I’ll need your mouth to come.”
“Say no more,” he replies, pecking my lips before he drops down on his good knee, his bad one bent inside his knee brace.
“Ryan,” I cry, trying to pull on his shoulders. “No—let’s go to the couch or a bed or—”
“If you think I’m going to suffer through an entire night of you in this dress and not get a taste of you just like this, you’re fucking crazy,” he says, already bunching the tulle with both hands.
“But—”
“Woman, let me work,” he shouts. “I will take you to the couch and finish you there. And if you’re very good, we may just end in the bed. But I’m tasting you right here, right now, before I quite literally die of thirst. Now, spread your legs and hold onto something.”
I’m smiling from ear to ear as I fling a hand out, reaching for the edge of the console table. I gasp, my grip on it tightening as Ryan ducks under the tulle skirt, his head disappearing beneath the pink fabric dotted with cherries.
“Ryan—”
He presses his face against my pussy with a hungry groan and I melt. He hasn’t even touched me with his mouth, and I already have jelly legs as he peppers kisses across my thighs and belly, his fingers still working my clit.
I gasp again as I feel him part me with two fingers and flick his tongue against my clit. “Oh—fuck,” I whimper, shifting my weight. Exquisite heat flashes through my core, and I instantly feel wetter. He’ll have me dripping by the end. I only pray I can relax enough to come.
He hums against my pussy, teasing with his tongue, spreading me wider to lick along my slit. “You taste so fucking good,” he says, his breath hot against my skin.
One hand grips the console table and I drop the other down to his head, hidden beneath the tulle of my skirt. “God, that feels good,” I say, my head tipped back.
His right hand continues to hold me open so his mouth can play. His left traces patterns up my thigh, circling around to squeeze my ass. He flips his hand around, his middle finger spearing me while his pointer and ring finger hold me open as he sucks on my clit.
“Fuck—god—” I try to hold still. My hips want to grind. I want more friction. “Ryan, baby, please…”
“What do you need?”
“More.”
He kisses my pussy one more time, and then he’s ducking out from under my skirt and climbing to his feet. My hands smooth down his chest to his stomach and land on his jeans as I pull him closer, tipping my head up in invitation.
He leans down, his glossy lips parted like he means to kiss me. Remembering himself, he pauses, sucking in a breath, eyes locked on me. “Is this okay? Can I kiss you?”
I smirk, tipping up on my toes to reach him better. “I’m bi, remember? I love the taste of pussy too.”
His brain short circuits as he processes that new information, and then he’s smiling, a flash of hunger in his eyes. “Fuck, why is that so hot to imagine?”
I laugh, kissing my taste off his lips. “Let’s work up to the girl-on-girl action. Right now, I need you to finish me, Ryan.”
He digs his hand in my hair, pulling me back to break our kiss. We’re both breathless as he gazes down at me. “Go to the couch.”
He lets me go, and I slip around him, the tulle of my skirt swishing as I walk into the living room, my eager puppy walking right at my heels. I like our chemistry with this too, the natural push and pull. He’s dominant but responsive, curious, thoughtful. We’re turning sex into a conversation, and like all our conversations, it feels easy and natural. It’s like we were made to speak each other’s language.
I step between the chair and the coffee table, moving over to the couch. I sink down on it, and he immediately follows, turning to me at once, his hands going to my skirt as he bunches up the tulle again.
“Lie back,” he says against my lips, still teasing me with kisses. “Spread these legs for me. You want me to go fast or slow?”
I shift, tipping backwards towards the end of the couch as he helps me bend my leg up and around. He guides me by the ankle, tucking my leg in against the couch so he’s sitting between my spread thighs. My other leg drops off the side of the couch, foot flat on the floor.
His hands smooth over my bare knees as he smiles down at me. “Lift this skirt for me. Show me where you want me.”
I’m loving his quiet, bossy tone. So methodical, so patient. It’s turning me all the way on. I grab for the tulle around my hips, scrunching it up, loving the silky flow of it pooling around me as I expose my thighs to him.
His hands rise with each inch of exposed skin, fingers splayed against me until he reaches my hips. “Beautiful,” he says, dropping his gaze down my body from my flushed face to my pussy.
I hold the tulle back with one hand as I drop the other between my legs, dipping my fingers into my entrance. I sigh, sinking back against the pillow as Ryan watches me touch myself with hunger in his eyes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says.
Desire pools in my core as I arch my hips, spreading myself wide for him. I’m basking in his focused attention. He’s not missing a thing.
“You like it slow like that?” he says, watching me tease my clit.
“Sometimes,” I reply, dipping two fingers back inside. “And sometimes I like it hard and fast. I like getting fucked, Ryan. I like friction and the feel of a man’s body on top of me, weighing me down, owning me.” I watch his expression and know he wants me to keep talking. He’s my processor, my planner. He’s logging this all away.