She wanted me to make love to her. That was precisely what I planned to do.
When she undid the final button, she pushed my shirt down my arms, allowing it to fall into a heap on the floor. She paused for a moment to take in my appearance, her skin flushed with appreciation.
As she reached for my belt and unbuckled it, I didn’t take my eyes off her, the air between us sizzling with sexual tension.
Once she pushed my shorts and briefs down my legs, I stepped out of them, smiling slyly when I noticed her attention immediately go to my erection.
“God bless Australia,” she exhaled, much like she did our first night together. This time, though, there was a hint of sadness in her words.
“My turn.” I touched a hand to her hip and turned her around.
With deliberate motions, I lowered the zipper of her dress and pushed the sleeves off her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet. I helped her step out of it before unhooking her bra, dropping it to the floor.
Turning her to face me, I took in her body, my arousal hardening in appreciation of every curve, every valley.
Days ago, she’d attempted to hide from me, nervous and apprehensive about me seeing her naked.
Not anymore.
We’d stripped each other of more than just our clothes. We bore our souls to each other. Exposed our truths.
Dropping to my knees, I peppered kisses along her stomach. As I slid her panties down her legs, my mouth moving past her belly button and toward her hips, her breathing increased.
When I trailed a finger up her thighs, she parted her legs in invitation, a whimper falling from her throat as I brushed against her center, spreading her need for me around.
“Oh god…” She ran her hands through my hair, tugging and pulling, as if it were the only thing that could keep her grounded.
“I need to taste you,” I said. “Need to have you.”
“I’m yours,” she exhaled.
“Mine.” I stood and laid her down on the bed, then lowered myself on top of her.
I covered her mouth with mine, desperate to lose myself in her kiss, her taste, her everything before I had no choice but to come back up for air in a matter of hours. Moving from her lips, I left kisses along her jawline before shifting to her neck and collarbone.
I snaked down her frame, her chest heaving with every nip, every suck, every lick as I worshipped her in the way she needed. In the way she deserved.
When I settled between her thighs, I glanced up at her, a smirk crawling across my lips as I teased her folds.
“Long live the South.” I waggled my brows.
She brought her gaze to mine, sadness consuming her, but she tried to smile through it. Just as I supposed she had most of her life. Masked her emotions with a smile. But she couldn’t hide them from me. Not anymore. I saw all of her. And for that, for allowing me to see the real Julia, I’d be forever grateful.
Smoothing my hands down her stomach, I flicked my tongue along her clit, her body moving against mine as I feasted on her, savoring the way she tasted. The way she felt. The way she hummed in appreciation.
God, she was so damn responsive to each brush of my tongue or swipe of my fingers as I explored every inch of her. When her breaths became sharper and more uneven, her movements more ragged, I knew she was close.
But, in typical Julia fashion, she fought it.
I wasn’t going to let her.
Not tonight.
Not when this was one of our last times together.
“Let go, Julia. Just let yourself go.”
I increased my motions, gently nibbling on her clit as I inserted another finger, hitting that spot inside her I knew drove her wild.