Ocean (Damage Control 5)
Page 111
With me.
Few things scare me. My brother never forgiving me. My mom dying alone. But above all, not being with her.
As I stroke her bare legs, the satiny skin breaking out in goosebumps under my palms, as I lift her feet and place open-mouthed kisses on top, then up her shins, her knees and then on the inside of her thighs, she shivers and whispers my name.
“Blue,” she’s whispering. “Blue.”
“I’m here,” I say against her skin, nosing toward her frilly panties, the light musk of her arousal hitting me straight between my legs, making my dick harder.
She loves me. She doesn’t blame me. She loves me. She said so.
Fuck, is this really happening?
The blood is rushing to my ears. My heart is pounding hard enough to break through my battered ribs as I breathe her in, heat pooling in my gut.
I’m so worked up already, just from smelling her, hearing her, from knowing she feels something for me, that I can’t trust myself to move, even as my balls throb and my dick is so heavy it aches.
I’ve known I love her for a while. There was never a doubt in my mind about it. But for me that means I want to be with her, only her, and that she’ll be mine.
Is that what she means?
But I don’t ask. Can’t push my luck any more tonight. This is already so much more than I ever hoped for.
I press a kiss on her panties, over her pussy, and she gasps. I press harder, and she writhes underneath me, her hands coming to my head, fingers raking through my hair.
Yeah, baby.
My control is quickly unraveling, so I grab the sides of her panties and drag them down her legs. The moment they’re off, I lift her legs up, resting her knees on my shoulders, and go to town.
She whimpers as I lick her, opening up her seam, then licking deeper, the sweetness of her arousal hitting my tongue.
“Oh God!” Her hips lift, and I push them back down, teasing her clit, circling the tip of my tongue around the hard nub, while working one hand between her legs.
The moment I push a finger into her pussy, she cries out and clamps down, squeezing the hell out of my finger. Coming. Pulsing in great shudders, arching off the couch, calling out my name.
Fuck. Guess I wasn’t the only one on the brink. And it makes me grin as I give her wet, throbbing pussy one last, long lick before I lift my head to see her face, her heavy-lidded eyes, languid with pleasure.
She does want me. She really does. As I start to pull my finger out of her, she clenches again around me, as if trying to keep me inside her.
I don’t even know how to deal with this rush of tenderness and satisfaction and need that’s churning me up inside. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before in my life.
“Don’t move,” I say and dive in again. This time I push a second finger inside her, stroking her deep, while I torture her clit with my tongue faster and faster.
She can come again from this, I’m sure of it. I can feel it in the way her body is tensing up, her hand in my hair tightening, in the way she sobs for breath.
I pump my fingers in her slick pussy, then curl them to find her sweet spot, my other hand going under her sweet ass and my thumb brushing over her back entrance. Again and again, and I close my mouth over her clit, sucking.
She screams, coming hard, milking my fingers in never-ending waves.
Love it when she’s so loud. When she can’t hold back.
God. I’m dying of need. Need for her. To be deep inside her, to feel her closer than any other person on earth, feel her pussy around my dick, her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck.
Feel her everywhere.
“God,” she gasps when I release her clit and rub my face on her inner thigh, leaving trails of her essence. “Holy crap.”
I like how out of breath she is. How awestruck she sounds. How relaxed she feels beneath me, her hair spread around her head like a fiery halo.