Play with Me (With Me in Seattle 3)

And I think it’s effing adorable to watch her eat beignets. Speaking of, I check the clock. I’m expecting a delivery in about ten minutes.

Meg stirs in her sleep, raises one arm up over her head, causing the sheet to slide down her body and expose one perfect breast, the nipple tight from being exposed to the cool air. Her beautiful auburn and blonde hair is fanned around her on her white pillow, and one knee is bent, laying against the bed.

Which means I could slip my hand between her thighs and wake her with my fingers inside her, but I wait. I want to watch her for a few more minutes.

I knew that I’d fall in love eventually. That I’d end up meeting a nice girl and we’d get married and have a few kids and a good life together.

But I had no idea that I could love someone so much that it absolutely consumes me. That being away from her for merely hours makes me want to punch someone in the face and the thought of anyone ever hurting her in any way just makes me completely nuts.

I would kill for this woman.

Or die.

I wasn’t kidding when I said she’s everything. She is.

At the light knock on the door I roll out of bed, pull on yesterday’s shorts and answer the door. I tip the delivery kid from Café Du Monde and carry the big bag of beignets and carrier of coffee to the bedside table, set it down, strip out of my shorts and climb back onto the bed.

She hasn’t moved a muscle.

My little lazy bones. Funny thing is, she’s the least lazy person I’ve ever known. She works tirelessly, and is always moving.

I love it when she’s moving beneath me.

With this in mind, I lean on my elbow near her head and lean down to kiss her cheek.

“Megan, wake up,” I croon softly to her and brush little wisps of hair off her neck.

“Hmph,” she answers with a moan and turns away from me.

“C’mon, lazy bones, wake up.” I plant little kisses on her bare shoulder and upper arm and slide my hand over her stomach and up to her breast, cupping it in my hand while I worry the nipple between my fingers.

I can’t get enough of her soft skin.

“I’m sleepy,” she murmurs and turns toward me, burrowing against me and settle in to sleep with her forehead pressed to my chest.

Fuck, she’s adorable.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“You do?” she asks, not moving.

“Yep, but you have to wake up to get it.”

“I don’t want it.”

Stubborn woman.

“Okay.” I back away and open the paper bag full of fresh, hot donuts, take one out and turn back to her. Her eyes are still closed.

I shake it over her shoulder, dropping powdered sugar on her skin and lean down and lick it off.

“Mmm,” I groan. “Good stuff.”

No response.

So I shake some more over her neck and dive after it, lapping it up.

She opens one eye, briefly, then snaps it shut quickly. I grin and pull the sheet down to her waist, exposing her perfect little body, and shake more sugar over her breasts.

I lick it up and then take a big bite of the beignet. “Open your mouth,” I instruct her, and she complies readily. I chuckle as I feed her the remaining portion of the fried dough, then dive in the bag for another and continue to shake the sugar on her delectable body, then eat the beignet, sharing pieces with her.

“I think you’ll need to be my plate more often, babe. You make everything taste sweeter.”

“Cheeky bastard,” she mumbles sleepily and I laugh out loud.

Grabbing a fresh donut, I move between her legs, shoulder her thighs wide apart and settle in for some fun.

Fuck, she’s already wet. Sleepy my ass. She’s playing with me.

God, I love her.

I shake some sugar over her pussy and watch it fall like snow on her pink flesh. Her clit is hard, that silver piercing just begging for my tongue. So I lean forward and lick her, from her soft folds to that warm metal, and all around, licking up every last bit of sugar, then take a bite of donut. I look up at her face and her eyes are open now, watching me, her gorgeous hazel eyes shining in lust, hands fisting the sheets. I offer her the donut, and she takes it from me and flings it over the side of the bed, licks her fingers and plunges them into my hair with a huge grin on her gorgeous face.

“Didn’t want anymore?” I ask sarcastically.

“I’ve had enough of those.”

“Me too. But I haven’t had enough of this.” I spread her with my thumbs, opening her up to me and kiss her, plunging my tongue inside her and licking all around. Her hips buck up against my face, but I hold her firmly, not letting her twist away.

She goes fucking crazy when I eat her out. It’s the sexiest damn shit I’ve ever seen.

Replacing my mouth with my hands, I move up to tease her clit, not flicking at it, but lapping at it, pushing it, and tugging, ever so gently, that silver with my teeth.

“Will!” she cries and bucks again. I push my fingers down, then pull them out and lick them.

“Yes, love?”

“Need you in me.”

“I’ve been in you sweetheart.” I push my fingers back in to prove my point, making her moan.

“Come up here,” she pants.

“What do you need?” I ask and brush her clit with my nose, making her squirm and me smile.

“You. Always you.”

“Fuck yes, me.” I climb up her body and lay over her. She cradles me against her, her strong legs wrapped around my waist, arms around my shoulders and fingers in my hair and I just lean on my elbows and gaze down at her.

“You are so fucking incredible, Megan.”

Her eyelids droop, and she blushes like she does when she’s happy. I brush my lips over hers and slide my cock through her wetness, pushing her piercing with the tip and she bites my lower lip.

“Like that?”

“Mmm.” She nods slightly and cups my ass with her hands, tugging me closer to her. God, I want to be inside her.

I need to be inside her.

I rear back and slowly push through the wetness, through her swollen folds, and sink in until I feel her resistence.

She’s so damn tight.

“This is my favorite place to be,” I whisper to her and feel her smile against my neck.

“It’s the top of my list too,” she whispers back.

And slowly, we begin to move. Everything in me is telling me to fuck the shit out of her, to pound her and mark her until I’m all she sees, and all she knows. All she remembers.

But on this sticky, sweet morning, all I want is to go slow. To be gentle with her. To memorize every sigh, every moan, every tightening of her muscles as she holds me to her.