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A Stone in the Sea(56)

By:A.L. Jackson


She whimpered, and tremors of anticipation rolled through her.

I gripped her by the outside of her thighs, holding her open, dragging my tongue from the root of her ass all the way to her clit.

On a strangled gasp, fingers dove into my hair, yanking hard. “Sebastian.”

Fuck, that felt good, ’cause I loved it rough, but I was giving this girl all the gentle I could find.

And I ate her up, tongue lapping between her lips, diving deep.

She just yanked harder. “Shit.” That throaty rasp spurred me on.

I teased her opening with a finger, up and down the slick, wet flesh, nipping at that sweet spot that had her writhing with my teeth. I sank two fingers inside and sucked her clit into my mouth.

Like an earthquake I held in the palms of my hands, she shattered, bursting into a billion unrecognizable pieces. Her entire body shook. She cried out, pressing me closer, pushing me away. And she was chanting my name. Again and again. Like it meant something.

And I could feel her storm swarming us, taking us whole. Vapors and whispers of her unknown.

She didn’t take the time to come back down. She slid from the piano and right onto her knees, reaching out for my hand to urge me to stand. I fumbled out from under the piano, lust knotted in my stomach and vibrating in my thighs. I hovered over her, looking down at her while she yanked just as fiercely at my fly as she’d yanked at my hair. She didn’t take her eyes from me as she freed me from the constraints of my underwear.

I felt trapped by it, by the passion radiating from this mystifying girl.

Her hand was so damned soft when she gripped the base of my cock. She squeezed, and I hissed when she slid her palm up, slowly…deliberately. Her tongue swept along that lush bottom lip as she ran her thumb around the fat ridge of my head. She watched, enraptured, as the shiny bead grew from the slit, sending a fresh rush of anticipation burning through me.

She leaned in and licked it clean.

I jerked and buried my fingers in her hair, just as she drew me deeply into the heat of her mouth.

“Shea…baby…fuck,” I mumbled, trying to remain coherent, searching for any threads left of my control as Shea began to stroke me with her mouth. What she couldn’t fit, she stroked with her hand. Her tongue was performing all kinds of magic that drove me right out of my damned mind.

I cupped the sides of her head, my pinky fingers sliding along the corners of her mouth, needing to feel where we were connected. She moaned against the sensitive flesh.

Pleasure coiled, that fever tightening my balls and tingling down the inside of my thighs.

I jerked, coming in her mouth, before I stilled with a grunt while Shea swallowed me down.

Never had I seen anything more beautiful than that. Shea’s lips wrapped around my cock, her eyes locked on mine.

Caramel.

Honest.

Tainted.

Pure.

My body rolled with the revelry while my head swam in bliss.

She pulled free of me, tongue swiping across her swollen, puffy lips, and tucked me back into my boxers. I dropped to my knees and framed her unforgettable face in my hands.

Floored.

“Don’t understand this, Shea. Not for a second. But I’m never going to be the same.”





GIGGLES RANG IN THE AIR, her head kicked back and her face bursting with happiness as the endearing sound lifted toward the sky. Kallie held onto my hand, her easy trust my comfort, and she shook her head as if what Sebastian had said was completely absurd. She leaned forward so she could see around me to him as he strolled along at my opposite side.

Her words were filled with the same childish laughter. “No, you silly, butterflies don’t have noses. They smell with their antennas and taste with their feet.” She said it as if it were of the utmost importance, my sweet child thinking it her duty to enlighten him on every single detail she knew about butterflies.

And for the last two weeks, she’d been doing it every chance she got.

Hands stuffed in his pockets, a grin slid across that handsome, handsome face, and my heart beat erratically, a wild crash of foolishness as I watched him interact with my daughter so effortlessly.

“Now that just sounds gross, Kallie. Tasting with your feet?” he said, sparring with her more. He shot me a little wink when I smiled up at him. I loved how he humored my chattering child. Loved how his eyes crinkled at the corners when he did. Loved how he looked with the last of the sun’s rays slanting across his face, twilight glinting in those dark grey eyes, and shadows playing along his strong jaw.

Most of all, I loved him here, at my side, as fleeting as I knew it would be, as terrified as I was of having to let him go.

Kallie huffed, my precious child skipping along beside me. “It’s not gross!”

“Are you crazy? What if you tasted food with your feet?” he teased.