Anticipation has fire licking through my loins and I nod, my mouth slack as I wait...and wait.
His finger trails a path down my front, around each mound. ‘You are so perfect...’
My subconscious wants to scream, I’m not! I’m so far from it. But I can’t speak. I am so caught in his spell as I lie there, open to his gaze, his touch. He traces my navel and my belly tightens. Beneath, my clit is waiting for that first touch.
But it doesn’t come. Instead he backs away and lowers his head. ‘I bet you taste perfect too.’
I let out a moan and then he’s there, his fingers parting me for the arrival of his mouth, and my belly launches into my throat, the surge of sensation making my body arch as my head presses back, my hands
twist to claw at the quilt.
‘Fuck...’ I curse, my eyes squeezed tight.
He is a master, a true, bona fide expert, with the kind of skill that’s born of experience. And, Christ, I’d know. I’ve given and received enough times. Jealousy claws its way back in but he sucks over me, banishing the unwelcome thought.
He’s all flicks and sips, his tongue rough, his stubble rougher. Oh, hell. I pull at the bedding, my thighs straining to close, but his hands are there, pressing them wider, and his growl of contentment is working over me.
‘Ash... Ash...’
I’m practically pulling myself up the bed, the intense streaks of pleasure impossible to control, his mouth unrelenting—and then I am shattering, the explosion inside so intense, so fierce, I can’t breathe for it. And even then he doesn’t stop. But I’m too sensitive—it’s too many waves, too much.
I start to pant, one hand flying to his head, clawing at him, as my lower half bucks with every sweep of his tongue. And then I feel that heated tension rebuild and I can’t believe it—it’s not possible... Just...not...possible! And then I’m not only at the peak, I’m riding above it, and the resurgence of pleasure is so startling, so acute, I can do nothing but grip the back of his head and stare as the sensation builds to an almighty crescendo and then I am convulsing, wild, lost, euphoric.
I rock forward, both hands hugging him to my pussy as I ride it out. Wave after wave. And then he rises up and I pull him to me. I feel raw, exposed, wanted, and I throw it all into a kiss. I taste myself on him and tongue him deeper, unable to get enough. His arms surround me and I’m trembling, struck dumb by what just happened. By all of it. By him.
He lies down and takes me with him, our mouths still joined. And I realise I’m not sure I can ever get enough of this—not ever. I want a future. I want it all.
I slow the kiss and break away, waiting for his eyes to meet mine.
Ask him. Just ask him.
The words hang in my throat. I’m scared of rejection. Scared of acceptance.
‘I know we said this was just about sex...’
I feel his chest still, spy the sudden tension around his eyes and curse my big mouth.
‘Yes.’
I swallow and force my eyes to hold his. ‘Well, what about we give this a shot? Try the odd date? I have a charity ball tomorrow night. You could come. It might be fun.’
I’m losing him. I can see it in the crease between his brows, the shutter falling over his expression. And those bloody tears are returning. Now that he’s opened the floodgates, it appears there’s no stopping them.
I drop my head to his chest, my ear coming to rest over his heart, and I listen to it race beneath me. ‘It’s okay. I’m more trouble than I’m worth.’
His hand upon my shoulder tightens. ‘Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.’
That passion is back in his voice—so why the shutter, why the rejection that he has yet to put into words?
‘It’s just... It’s just in my line of work, I need to keep out of the public eye—you know, under the radar. No one’s going to hire a PI whose face is recognisable to the masses. It’ll ruin my business.’
I close my eyes and breathe through the pain. He makes a fair point. I know he does. And he’s not rejecting me—not really.
He’s not promising you anything more either. In fact, he’s telling you it can never be.
But I only have myself to blame for wanting more, for lowering my guard and letting him in. I only have myself to blame for tearing my heart in two.
‘We can have this, though, can’t we?’ I say softly. ‘At least for a little while?’