my head falls back, and my eyes slide closed. “Where do you want your mouth?” I counter, my thighs shifting restlessly on either side of his ribs as he presses a kiss to my swooping belly.
“I want my tongue buried in your hot pussy, but I want to hear you say it.”
The words send a thrill shooting through me that’s every bit as fierce as the sizzle summoned by his touch.
“Test your limits, sweetheart.”
Eyes opening, I glance down the landscape of my own body, the sight of his hands on my breasts and the hunger in his eyes making me feel beautiful, powerful, bold enough to say, “I told you I wanted to ride you last night. I told you I wanted to sleep with you. I’m not afraid to tell you what I want.”
He arches a challenging brow. “No?”
“No,” I say, my pulse speeding as I add, “So, telling you I want your mouth between my legs more than I want to breathe right now won’t count as testing my limits.”
Damn, that feels good to say.
Great, actually.
Turns out saying what I want is not simply a turn-on, but it’s remarkably easy with this man—this man who’s my friend and my temporary lover.
It’s not testing my limits because it’s easy.
And I’ll take easy right now, thank you very much.
His eyes narrow playfully. “Well, if it won’t count for the list, is it really worth doing?”
I smile down at him, a wicked grin that feels just right on my face. “Maybe not. Maybe we should get out of bed, have breakfast, and be about our list-y business. No pussy-kissing or dick-kissing. Do not pass go; do not collect any orgasms.”
He kisses my hip as he murmurs against my skin, “But I really like passing go and collecting orgasms. Maybe the list can wait a few minutes?”
“Just a few,” I agree, shivering as he kisses lower, lower, until his lips brush my clit, making my head spin with that gentle touch.
His mouth is soft, but also magic, because he kisses just so, and he licks just right.
A wild whoosh of pleasure rushes through my body. My pulse skyrockets, and I ache for more of his lips.
More of him.
This man I want to keep close, to know even better.
Holy hell.
Maybe this is testing my limits.
Because as he licks my clit, as he kisses my pussy, as he goes down on me like I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, emotion surges inside me like a tidal wave, threatening to knock me off my feet.
This feels like so much more than friend-zone sex.
This feels like we’re lovers. Just . . . lovers.
I don’t simply want more orgasms with Jesse. I want more of his laughter, his company, his heart. I want his trust, and I want to give him every bit of mine.
But that’s not what this temporary thing is about.
We established clear boundaries before this started, and if I let one whisper of what I’m feeling tumble from my lips, I’ll ruin everything.
Thankfully, as he lavishes attention on my clit, drawing it between his lush lips, I lose the ability to form words.
Everything falls from my head but the rush of desire.
The promise of bliss.
It’s swirling in me.
Coiling in my belly.
Tightening in my core.
I grab his hair, clutch his head. “Oh God, Jesse. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
My words spur him on. His tongue flicks faster. His lips kiss harder. And my world spins off its axis as my release sends me over the cliff.
It lasts for ages, and I don’t want it to stop. The pulsing, the pleasure, the intensity that wracks my body. That turns my mind into a neon haze.
I am swimming in ecstasy and I don’t want to come up for air.
Except I do, because on the other side is Jesse.
The man I’ve wanted for years.
And I’m having him.
As I push up on my elbows, my face hot, my hair a mess, he rises too.
His eyes are feral, hungry. He licks his lips in a way that makes me want to lick them too. To lick every inch of him.
“Your turn,” I say, feeling all kinds of bold and naughty.
“If you insist,” he rasps out.
“I absolutely do,” I say, and in seconds we trade off. He’s on his feet, and I like this.
I am so up for this.
Or down, I should say.
I slide my hands along his hips, over his thighs as I get off the bed.
I drop to the floor on my knees, wrap a hand around his