the tip of her nipple. The skin is so firm it bounces with just the pressure of my tongue, and I can tell how heavy they’ve become with need. I close my lips to cover the pink and use my tongue to flick over the tip, faster and faster until they’re erect, and she’s moaning, begging, though she doesn’t even know what she wants. I nip the tender skin, making her cry out, and lick the target before biting again, this time harder. When I repeat the movement a third time, increasing the pressure, I slide a finger inside her. I bite and lick and fondle her nipple until she isn’t sure what to expect or what is giving her more pleasure. I lift my head, peering at her parted legs and my finger sliding in and out of her, and then to her face as she releases a soft moan followed by a hiss that has her hips lifting from the bed again. I want to continue watching her, enjoying the fact that she’s losing her inhibitions, succumbing to needs and feelings. I add a second finger, and my balls tighten when I feel just how hard it’s going to be to last more than ten seconds when her muscles convulse, begging me to go deeper, harder. But I stop and slide my fingers, still wet with her excitement, over her clit, and then dip them and spread even more wetness over her until she’s panting. I rub my middle finger over her clit, noting how it’s swelled, which tells me she’s feeling every single touch—every pressure, and likely every breath as I lean closer. I spread her with one hand, making her eyes widen again before I stroke along her clit. She drops her head back, her breaths breaking.
Slowly, I increase my pressure until she moans with pleasure and reaches down to fist my hair. “You’re so wet. I can smell you.” My voice is thick with desire and need.
I press harder, but my movements remain slow and constant until her thighs begin to tremble, and her legs struggle between spreading wider and closing with the last of her inhibitions that are keeping her from climaxing. “Stop thinking, Liv, just feel it. Lose yourself in just how good I can make your body feel.”
She gasps, and then I run my tongue over her. She screams her release, her hands fisting the comforter. I stand to my full height, feeling like a fucking king for making her come so hard.
My cock throbs against my zipper, begging for release, but I close my eyes and force myself to think of running bleachers and cold showers as I slide so that I’m beside her, peppering her shoulder with kisses as I memorize her scent and the sound of her breaths as they slowly stretch, coming back down from her high.
“You stopped?” she asks, moving her arms to cover her breasts.
I quickly shake my head, reading her discomfort, and realizing it’s because she thinks I want to. “I didn’t mean to take things so far. I wanted to kiss you, and then I really needed to taste you.”
Her cheeks blaze, making me chuckle.
“I don’t want you to wake up and go to Texas and regret this, regret me—regret us.”
She exhales, her teeth catching her bottom lip again. She shakes her head. “I don’t—I won’t. Matt and I started growing apart before I even moved. I don’t feel for him what I thought I did. Certain parts of my life have been so difficult to let go of and change because letting go of them has me feeling like I’m letting go of another piece of my mom. I know that’s silly, and it doesn’t make sense, but in some weird way, it did.”
I stroke my fingers over her jaw, over her bare arm, the ladder of her ribs. “It’s not silly, Liv. You lost so much. It makes sense.”
“You’ve made me feel alive, and I haven’t felt alive in a very long time.”
I lean forward, brushing my lips against hers, knowing the consequences of the action—that I want to stay here, holding her, putting her world back together in the way she deserves rather than the one formed out of necessity and fear.
“Olivia! Arlo!” Rose yells our names.
Liv’s eyes fly open with surprise. She moves to sit up, swearing quietly as she rolls to look at her alarm clock. “Is it really that late?” She glances at me and then down at