I could feel myself dripping. I could feel my legs trembling against his back. His lips wrapped around my clit and pulled it into his mouth, his tongue flicking at lightning speed. I was breathless and at his mercy as my eyes watered with want. I gripped onto his hair as I tried to buck into him, wanting to chase my high on the tip of his tongue.

But his hands held me down as he teased me generously, turning me into a moaning mess.

“Please. Oh, please. I can’t. I can’t wait. You’re driving me crazy.”

I felt him smile into me as my back arched again. I wanted to be so close to him. I wanted to come at the ministrations of his tongue. If he would let me come, I could give him what he wanted. If he could release me, my name would tumble from his lips.

If he could just send me over the edge, I would give him something in return.

Finally, his hands gave way. They slid down my thighs and parted my knees once again. I rocked into him as much as I could as he pinned my knees toward my chest. His entire body was hovering over me as his eyes hooked onto my face. I could feel sweat gathering at the nape of my neck. I could feel my body flushing with orgasmic delight. His tongue flattened out over my clit as juices dripped down my crack.

I was so close I could taste it.

CHAPTER 1

AMANDA

Shit!

Get it together Amanda.

It was a cold winter day in New York and I stood barefoot on the distressed hardwood floors of my apartment. My hands trembled as I held the crisp white letter addressed to me. It was from my grandmother’s estate attorney.

My grandmother passed away from a long battle with pneumonia and left me her home. Months had passed since h

er funeral, and I was still dealing with the loss of the one person I’d loved most in the world. I referred to her as my sweet Gigi. While she relentlessly encouraged me to follow my dreams, I still felt guilty for moving hundreds of miles away for art school and the pursuit of an art career.

No amount of accomplishments compared to her unconditional love, or her famous Sunday morning buttery biscuits. God, those biscuits were pure heaven. Gigi must have packed them with crack or something wicked - they were that good.

The thought of owning the house I’d grown up in overwhelmed me with nostalgia and a longing to get back to the place I called home – beautiful North Carolina.

Maybe everything did happen for a reason.

Maybe my life had hit rock bottom because there was something better waiting for me. Could it be that Gigi wanted me to return to my roots?

Perhaps I was supposed to have a horrible relationship with the man I once called the one – so I could take a step back and grow into my own skin.

Or, maybe I was bat shit crazy!

There was only one way to find out – and I was convinced that North Carolina was that way. I had to at least give it go. I owed Gigi that much.

When my parents split, my mother relied heavily on her to help care for me. My father cheated on my mother multiple times, and then she fell into drugs and alcohol to cope with her troubles. To say that part of my childhood was a complete shit show would have been an understatement.

Gigi was my rock, my support, and my sole source of encouragement my entire teenage life. She even supported me through art school in New York City. She fought for my dreams, harder than anyone ever had. She was my guardian angel.

I missed her so damn much it hurt. Now, I knew she was watching over me from a distance.

I just prayed I wouldn’t let her down.

***

So, you’re just going to leave without a word?

Groaning at the text message from my ex, Daryl, I tossed my phone onto the airplane tray in front of me. I was on my flight to North Carolina, and he wouldn’t stop messaging me. Leave without a word? I broke up with him over a month ago.

Daryl was demeaning and cynical throughout our entire relationship – except of course the honey-moon period that lasted for just a few months after we met. He assumed he knew everything there was to know about the art world. He constantly told me to find something practical to do with my art degree; like teach or give lessons. Not once believing I could showcase my artwork in galleries – even though I proved him wrong a few times.

Struggling as an artist from the ground up took a great deal of work and mustering of courage and fighting my own self-doubts. Coupling all that with my Daryl’s insults made things a million times worse.

Tags: Rye Hart Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net