He left the socks on.
I’d have laughed, but his gaze was direct and intense again. He dragged my panties to the side, and that damn tongue was my undoing.
Holy shit.
I reached behind my head to grasp the frame of the bench. He wrapped my legs around his head, then gripped my ass.
My brain short-circuited as desire took over. There was no noise inside me for the first time in too many years to count.
No, I knew just how many years. Three.
Since he’d been there the last time. Because there had been no one else between my legs.
“Stop thinking so loud,” he said against my thigh.
Honestly, he was going to be the death of me. Forever ordering me around.
He glanced up at me and slid two fingers into me without warning. I arched up and my thoughts drifted away as he lapped at my clit with long, lazy licks. Every time I looked down, he was watching me with relentless scrutiny. As if he was deciding how invested he wanted to get.
I wanted to kick him.
How was it that he could lay me out like this and be so detached?
I rolled my hips in little circles against his tongue. It was backfiring on me, of course. It had been too long since anyone had been down there, including myself. His fingers were thick and no matter how hot I was, it still seemed as if he was trying to crack me open. I didn’t remember having this issue the last time.
Pain and brutal enjoyment straddled the knife’s edge inside me. An endless war.
Which side would win? I didn’t know.
“God, you’re so fucking tight.”
The combination of my restless hips and his relentless mouth created the perfect symphony. His name bounced along the rafters above us. Was that me? God, yes, it was. It wasn’t even from pleasure. It was more like he owned my body. Every touch and stroke of his mouth steered me toward some end he had in mind. My thighs shook.
I was imploding.
His fingers plunged deeper, his mouth electrifyingly acc
urate in every way. He gripped my hip with his other hand, holding me down and open for him.
I tried to just hold on and enjoy it, but the pleasure shattered inside of me. I grasped his hair with my free hand, the other gripping the piano bench for dear life. He twisted my fingers free from his hair, lacing his with mine over my belly as he watched me break.
I was splintered crystal.
Everything raw and jagged inside of me. Memories of that long ago night layered over the now as I tried to breathe. Would he withdraw again? Push me aside and be done?
He sat back on his feet then drew me forward to meet him. Rather than pushing me away, he lowered me on top of him, pulling me off the bench. The soft underside of the piano cover on the floor tickled my bare knees as I straddled him.
We matched. His long, rugged legs tensed under my weight, but he took me.
There was no space between us.
The shattered pieces of me flowed out around his impenetrable granite, finding the holes and spaces he’d built to keep people out. Not me. Not now. I wouldn’t take half measures again. Face to face, there was nowhere to hide.
It wasn’t just mindless bodies seeking relief this time.
It was me.
It was him.