My breath shudders out, my nipples tightening as he smooths his palms up and over my hips, past my ribs, to cup my breasts in his big hands while he continues to kiss and nibble at my thighs, first one and then the other, building the ache coiling in my center.
I want him to kiss me there so badly, but I also love this sweet torture—these moments when the anticipation is so intense it sharpens every sensation, every brush of his lips and delicious drag of his teeth over my skin. Every teasing stroke of his fingers close to my pebbled nipples.
“Please.” I run my fingers through his hair, skimming my nails down the back of his neck.
“Please what?” His fingertips circle my breast, so close to where I ache but not close enough.
I arch into his hands. “Touch me.”
“Where?” The smile in his voice makes me want to punch him a little, but also makes me laugh as I breathe, “My nipples.”
He captures my tight tips between his fingers, rolling them in circles, the delicious friction making me squirm beneath him as he asks, “Where else? Where do you want my mouth, Ruby?”
My teeth dig into my bottom lip, 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.