when I curled my finger deep inside her, seeking her G-spot.
Presley cried out again, eyes closed, mouth slightly open.
Sexiest fucking thing I’d ever seen.
“More… Jake… I need more.”
I pushed two fingers inside her, increasing the tempo of the slippery slide of my fingers. “Come for me, Presley. Come on my hand. I want to watch.”
Her eyes opened, and she met my gaze briefly before her head tilted back, breasts thrust upward as her body bowed once again. When she screamed, her pussy clenching around my fingers, I thought for a second that I would come, too, but somehow—I wasn’t sure how—I managed to wrangle my self-control.
As much as my dick ached, as hard as I was, I wasn’t willing to come.
This… This had been all about her.
I slowly withdrew my fingers from her body, unable to resist licking them clean, tasting her on my tongue. That only intensified my craving for her, but I ignored it.
Taking her hands in mine, I came to stand in front of her again, pulling her up, then wrapping her in my arms and kissing her softly, cradling the back of her head in my hand. This woman had quickly gotten under my skin, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do about that, if anything at all.
“You know…” Presley whispered. “This is starting to feel awfully one-sided.”
I stared down at her, frowning.
“I seem to be the only one who gets to come.”
“Yeah, well … we’ll get there. I promise.”
I nipped her lower lip, licking the ring running through it, then pulled back, staring down at her. She was smiling up at me, which did a weird number in my chest. Something about that smile…
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I chuckled. “No, thank you.” Since she’d effectively fried my brain and my dick had taken over, I just realized that I’d forgotten my manners. “I’d offer to make you breakfast, but…”
“Well, good thing we bought Corn Pops at the grocery store.”
What a way to start the day … watching a beautiful woman come on my fingers … and cereal.
I smiled and this smile was nothing short of all consuming. I could feel the happiness in my chest, which shocked me to the depth of my soul. This woman was doing something to me, something I didn’t completely understand.
“Well, I guess I should tell you to go get dressed so we can eat,” I told her. “Only that would be stupid of me because”—I let my eyes rove over her again—“because I fucking love looking at you just like that.”
“Well … why don’t I just keep wearing it, and you can do your best not to think about what’s underneath.” Presley’s grin was flirty and sexy. “Or, if you really want, I could get dressed.”
“No!” I said, chuckling at how quickly that one word came out. “You’re perfect just like that.”
“Okay, then. But if you’re not gonna keep me warm, we’ll probably have to turn up the heat.”
I could do that. If I could stop staring at her.
I knew it was rude to be ogling her, but I found I didn’t want to do anything else. I’d spent hours writing, starting shortly after I’d left Presley in her bedroom, only taking a break long enough to sleep for a few hours, then to make coffee when I’d woken before dawn. From there, I had jumped right back into it. And I hadn’t stopped until I’d realized I had drained the first pot.
That’s how I found myself standing here now, ready to put off writing for a little while so I could spend some quality time with this incredible woman who’d unknowingly managed to inspire me. In every sense of the word.
“About the heat…” Presley said.
I nodded. It was all I could do.
An hour later, we were sitting on the screened-in porch, Presley covered in one of the blankets she kept in the closet along with my T-shirt—which was now her favorite—or so she’d informed me.
Breakfast had been more difficult than I’d anticipated, but only because Presley had sat on the island, eating Corn Pops while I downed eggs, bacon, and toast, watching her and thinking about how she’d looked when I’d made her come with my fingers.
While I’d cooked, in an effort to keep my focus, I’d filled her in on a few details of my story, about Kora and Donovan, where I saw their relationship going. And while we’d chowed down, she had told me about an art contest she was considering entering. That was