While his fingers found the tight point of her left nipple.
He could hardly reach it, with his arm around her shoulders the way it was. But somehow the strange restraint of the position they were in, his hand almost not reaching…it just made things hotter. He tugged the little bud and she turned her face in search of his mouth, his throat, just anything. Anything to focus on, while this pleasure thrummed through her.
“You make me feel so good,” she said, because it was true—but also because the words tasted sweet in her mouth. Like eating a spoonful of aniseed, after a jug full of vinegar. “Make me feel good.”
He didn’t hesitate.
“Spread your legs, baby,” he said, just like that first time—only surer now. More eager. “Let me see.”
She did as she was told without even thinking about it, then felt him shift a little behind her so he could look all the way down, down to her completely open pussy. To her stiff clit and already slippery lips, all of it so clear even in near darkness.
He didn’t go for the obvious, however. Instead his fingers slid through her folds all slow and easy, mapping various parts of her out. Finding that little hollow again, and testing it, testing it. Then easing back up again with such painful deliberation.
First a stroke over one plump curve. Then a little circle all the way around her stiff bud, without actually touching it. And finally, finally, for the big finish…
“Ohhhh yeah. Just there, there.”
“Where do you want it?”
“You know where.”
“Say it, and I might.”
She hovered on the brink, half-agitated, half something else. Reckless, she thought it was, and her mouth proved her right a moment later. Her mouth wanted her to say something other than what he was clearly expecting, and she delivered.
“Okay. Take your clothes off, and then fuck me.”
Hell—he’d given her the opportunity. Had he really thought he could say something like that and not get a stronger response now? She’d felt his hands on her, felt his mouth.
She wanted the last one. Even if it hurt the way everyone said, she wanted it.
“You don’t really want me to fuck you,” he said, but as he did so he found her clit with that one maddening finger. Pressed there, over and over, until her legs made a weird straight shape and her stomach clenched tight with the pleasure of it.
“I do. Ohhhh God I do.”
“You want to feel me inside you?”
She almost sobbed to hear him put it like that. His voice just sounded so urgent suddenly, so heated.
“Yes—ahhh Van. Oh keep doing that.”
He made little tight circles around her clit in response, sliding downward through her slit every now and then, to gather more wetness. Of course, each time he did the sensation intensified. By the time he made his next offer she’d turned almost mindless, body trembling under the pressure. Orgasm just a stroke away.
“You want me to make love to you?”
Whatever fears she’d had lurking inside her fled. He’d used those two words. Make and love. He hadn’t said fucked, or screwed, or any of the other things she’d heard it called, in the middle of lectures on what not to do.
And a moment later he said them differently too—different order, which made her put a hand over his. Made her press his teasing fingertips right over her clit.
“God I want to make love to you,” he said, so breathless and horny and good, as her climax swelled through her sex. More liquid coated her folds, more sounds burst from her lips, and all of it for him.
For the things he said and the things he did, without even trying.
“Oh yeah that’s it. That’s it, baby. Oh you’re just spilling all over my hand.”
She groaned on the word spilling. How did he know the exact right rude things to say, to get her going? The moment he’d done it another contraction tied itself to the end of her orgasm, so briefly intense she couldn’t even get the sound she wanted to make out.
And then he just pulled her to him, both arms forming a kind of cross over her chest. Mouth pressed tight to the side of her face in an almost kiss, most of him still as strung out as he’d been a second ago
But different, different. Not as urgent, she thought, which disappointed her even as she sank into a warm haze of bliss. If he wasn’t as urgent, he wouldn’t want to go that one step further. He wouldn’t want to strip off, get her on her back, slide between her legs.
Or at least, she assumed so.
“How do you want me to do it?”
Her eyes had been closed. They opened now. He meant…he actually meant to do the thing they’d said, in the heat of the moment. She knew it, even though realistically it could have been suggesting anything.