the front of my bra. “This is next,” he said.
I’d never been one to be shy about the naked body—I saw enough of them at work—but I blushed as I contorted to pull off the tight bra, my breasts bouncing free. His hands were there immediately, cupping them, lifting and testing their weight. My nipples were so sensitive that when he thumbed them, the sensation was almost painful.
My voice was thick with lust when I spoke, “I mean, which rule is next?”
Noting my reaction, his thumbs paid intimate attention to my nipples, caressing them in soft swipes that made liquid heat pool low in my stomach. “Honesty. If something changes, if you don’t want to do this anymore, then you tell me. I want you to always feel like you can talk to me.”
“Same to you,” I said, but I was breathing hard. His thumbs were masterful, and when he added his fingers, pinching and squeezing the sensitive buds, I nearly came out of my skin. “Tripp!”
“Shh, I’m trying to focus.” He leaned forward and took one of my nipples into his mouth. His tongue flicked, and he sucked deeply, causing me to arch my back against the counter. I wasn’t even naked, and I was about to come.
“So am I!” I nearly snarled.
“No one else,” he said darkly. “That doesn’t make this a relationship, because I know you’re not ready for that, but I don’t share. And if you find someone else, then you tell me, and we’ll call it quits.”
“Same for you.”
He didn’t say anything to that but helped me out of my yoga pants. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath, which left me completely bare. I suddenly remembered that I’d just been working out. I hadn’t even taken a shower. Oh my God, what if I smelled gross? Shit!
“Tripp, wait, maybe we should take a shower. Clean up first.”
“No time,” he said, and then he knelt in front of me.
“But wait, I’m probably all sweaty—ahhh!”
I didn’t have time to finish my warning. His mouth was already there between my spread legs, which he draped over his shoulders as though I didn’t weigh a thing. I threw my head back as his tongue lapped boldly at me. There wasn’t time to be self-conscious. Tripp simply didn’t allow it. He ate my pussy like he was a starved man, and I was the tastiest thing he’d ever had on his tongue.
There was no hesitation in the way he licked at my clit, no second thoughts. If he had reservations, he didn’t show them. The rasp of his stubble rubbed my inner thighs raw, but I didn’t care. What he was doing felt too good to worry about anything else.
He pulled away long enough to say, “Last rule is we don’t stop until you come.”
Based on the way things were going, I didn’t think that was going to be a problem—which was something, especially for me.
His hands spread my thighs wide, resulting in the need for me to brace my arms on the countertop behind me. The precariousness of the placement made it impossible for me to find a comfortable position. It kept me on edge, excited, uncertain. I never knew how much of a turn-on being reckless could be. Normally, when I had sex, it was always in bed, at night, with the lights off. Now, we were in the middle of my apartment, and the sun was blazing through the front windows.
Then, he reached his hands around my hips to spread my pussy apart. The action shocked me so much that I straightened and looked down at him. And that was it. I couldn’t look away. His eyes were closed as though in rapture. All I could hear were the wet, slick sounds of his tongue and lips sucking and licking at every part of me.
And the moans, oh, God, the moans.
Except they weren’t coming from me.
I mean, they were, but Tripp...he sounded like he was enjoying the hell out of himself. Which had never occurred to me before.
But it was when he opened his eyes and looked up that I truly lost myself in him. His licks slowed as he moved from the sensitive nub of my clit to the place where I wanted him so badly. With his eyes on mine, he thrust his tongue deep inside. It was dirty, so dirty, and felt so good that I cried out, grabbed his hands, and came all over his tongue.
By the time I came back to myself and