I look at her tits, spilling out over her bra, and then at the way her skirt is riding up her thighs, the starkness of her soft skin against the rough denim of my jeans. “Definitely.”
Her lips press against mine, wet. Her tongue tangles, hot. Little pants coat me in her breath, and it takes everything not to cave to my instincts. To take. It becomes clear that Vandy needs this. That she’s desperate for release. I let her ride against me, hips thrusting more and more frantically, and this is it. There’s no way I’ll ever feel this good again, Vandy using my body to chase her own orgasm.
I can feel it approaching in the stutter of her rhythm, the way her legs tremble around me, in the sound she makes, these choked-off little whines against my lips. I guide her hips, working her against my cock, and whisper, “Yeah, that’s it,” and, “Come on, baby.”
Her fingers pinch into my shoulders, like she’s holding on as she falls over the edge. I watch as she falls apart, teeth sinking into her lip, brow furled. I sweep the hair from her cheek as she whimpers, and when I press a soothing kiss to her jaw, she pushes her nose into my temple, body shuddering one last time. The motion of her hips grows less frantic, more controlled. Intentional. Giving instead of seeking.
I’m so close, I push my hands up her skirt and clutch her hips, falling back to look at her. She looks like pure sex. Her eyes are still glazed over, but there’s a sharpness in them. Something bright and satisfied. She surprises me like this. I guess I always figured Vandy would be shy and reluctant, but she’s shameless and soft here, so willing that it makes my chest clench.
“God, look at you.” I wet my lips as I take her in, her skirt riding up around my wrists as I drag her against me. She doesn’t even play it up—doesn’t even need to. She looks into my eyes and my thumbs sweep inward, grazing the softness of where her legs meet her body, dangerously close to finding out just how wet she is, and that’s it.
My hips buck forward and I groan as the hot, sticky release spreads inside my boxers.
I take her face in my hands and rub a thumb over her puffy bottom lip. “You okay?” I didn’t miss the way her leg shook there at the end, even though I was doing most of the work. The realization that all that trembling from before could have been something bad startles the shit out of me.
“You don’t have to ask me that.” She swallows, eyes boring into mine. “Please don’t... don’t treat me like that, okay? Like everyone else does, like I’m fragile. I’m a big girl, Reyn. If we’re going to do this, I need you to know that.”
“I hear you,” I say, understanding that this is what she needs from me. The one person that treats her like an adult. “Just don’t ever…” Only I don’t quite know how to say it. How to ask her not to push herself too far because she’s afraid that I can’t handle facing the truth of her injuries. I try, “You can tell me, if there’s something you can’t—I mean, something that’s hard for you to…”
My fault, my brain screams. I did it.
I’m the reason I have to ask this, in every single way, and it makes my stomach roil.
Luckily, she understands what I need from her. “I know my limits, don’t worry.” If I was afraid of pissing her off, then I’m pleasantly surprised when she gives me a soft smile. “I told you last night, didn’t I? That I wasn’t ready for sex.”
“Right.” I do my best to tamp down the sudden sick feeling. Kind of shitty, if I’m being honest, wanting her to be open and honest, and then not being able to handle it. “Sorry.”
She grins. “As long as we keep doing things like that, I’ll give you a pass.”
A surprised laugh bursts from my chest and I right her bra, fingers lingering. “You’re fucking gorgeous, you know.”
Now, she gets bashful, exhaling a dubious, “Pshhh.”
“Really,” I insist, fingers dragging down her chest, stomach, landing on the scars there. “All of you.” If I were in that Devil confession circle right now, my biggest sin, my darkest secret, would be how touching that scar makes me