For Her (The Girl I Loved Duet 1)

I do, and I couldn’t give a shit about blankets and pillows as I let myself fall into her. I never get tired of the way Amber kisses. She puts everything into it, and now, almost a year after we started dating, she knows exactly what to do to get me going, and she doesn’t bother holding back either.

She runs her tongue along my bottom lip and lets it tangle with mine, and I’m reminded of how long it’s been since we’ve been alone. Too long for my taste. Amber’s hand runs across the front of my jeans and I can feel her laughter through our kiss. “Someone’s ready.”

“Of course I am,” I say. “I’m always ready for you.” And it’s true. Amber could pull me into a corner anywhere and I’d be ready to do whatever she wanted. It’s a struggle for me to be in her proximity without being so aroused that it’s obvious. She tugs my belt off and tosses it to the floor before shoving her pants down. She drops to her knees, and I’m about to tell her to wait, but my words turn into a nonsense sound because her mouth is already on me and I don’t have the capacity to speak anymore.

God, she’s good. She’s always been good, even when she was new, but she’s had practice, and the way her tongue dances under the head of my dick is delicious. Today she’s not holding back, sinking down so she’s consuming all of me, a move that takes everything out of me and I can’t control myself. It’s been long enough that she barely has to work me for thirty seconds before I give her a garbled warning, and let go. I come hard and fast, already breathing hard and feeling exhausted when she lets me go and grins.

“We have some time,” she says, “and I want you to be with me the way I know you can be, not just hurrying up to come because we’ve been busy for a couple weeks.”

I pull my shirt over my head and toss it onto my pants. “You’re evil.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

Amber pulls her shirt over her head and undresses quickly. I smirk. I’m not the only one that’s eager for this. “How many do you want?” I ask. I’ve made a habit of asking how many orgasms she wants, and I try to give them to her, regardless of how many times we have sex. As good as I like to think I am, I’m not perfect and we’re not perfect together. It doesn’t always work for her when I’m inside, but I know I can make her come in other ways. I grab a condom from my bag and roll it on in preparation.

“I’d say you owe me at least two.”

I mentally promise to give her more than that, because I love the faces she makes when she comes. It’s one of the few times I get to see Amber out of control, and there’s something fascinating about it. Not to mention it’s fucking hot. Laying back on the blankets and pillows, I pull her down on top of me, and she thinks we’re getting straight to it. We’re not.

I pull her up and over me so I can reach her with my mouth, and she moans. “You’re the evil one now.”

I hum against her skin. “You love it.”

She can’t even say that she does, because my tongue is already inside her. I remember a time when we decided to watch a movie at her house and her parents had already gone to bed. It wasn’t long before I decided that making her come when she couldn’t make a sound was more interesting than watching the movie, and that I wouldn’t stop until it was over. That was the night I learned that fucking her with my tongue was an excellent way to make her squirm. And I’m still learning, and I don’t care what anyone says, guys who think that sex is all about them—and there are plenty of those at this school—don’t understand how much better it is when she feels good too.

So I dip my tongue inside her while she rocks her hips above me, and I move in patterns and motions and rhythms that I know she likes until she’s gasping. She’s close. I can see her face, and her eyes are closed, lips slightly parted, and I love that look. She’s lost in the pleasure and almost there. I suck deeply and feel her shudder followed by the burst of pure essence that’s just her.

Something else I learned: If I don’t let her recover from one orgasm, she might have another one. So I pull her down me, and slip inside before she can open her eyes. I know her body well enough now to do it in one slow movement, and she almost collapses, her hands landing on my shoulders. “Don’t move,” she says, voice a little scratchy.