Her kiss is hungry, her tongue seeking mine, her fingers playing with the ends of my hair. I return the kiss with matching hunger, guiding her out of the elevator when we reach the sixth floor. I tear my lips from hers and practically drag her to our room, my shaky fingers having a hell of a time pulling the card key out of my wallet.
She laughs and takes the key from me, as if she knows I’m having difficulty, and she unlocks the door with ease. We enter the room in a rush, me pressing her against the door as soon as it shuts, my mouth back on hers, my hands sliding beneath her shirt, encountering warm, bare skin.
I tug the shirt up, and she helps me shed it, tossing it onto the floor. Her bra is white. Trimmed in satin and lace. Virginal when she’s anything but. I shove the cups up, exposing her breasts, her rosy pink nipples hard and begging for my mouth. I draw one in, sucking and biting, licking away the sting when I hear her harsh intake of breath. I do the same to the other nipple, my hand dropping in between her legs, rubbing her there, pressing the seam of her jeans against her pussy.
She writhes against me, her legs squeezing around my hand, like she never wants me to escape. With my other hand I undo the button, pull down the zipper, and then I’m delving my hand inside, brushing my fingers against her panties.
They’re damp. She’s so fucking wet right now.
All for me.
Our overeager hands start pulling at each other’s clothes, and within seconds we’re naked. I pick her up, carry her to the bed and deposit her there, following after her. Our kiss is long, full of circling tongues and heat, my cock ready to plunge inside her wet depths and just fuck her already, but I hold myself back.
I want to savor her.
Without warning I roll us over, so I’m lying on my back and she’s on top of me, her legs splayed across my hips, my cock nudging against her. My hands find her ass and I grip her firmly, trying to get her to move.
She rests her hands on my shoulders and lifts up, staring down at me, her brow wrinkled
. “What do you want me to do?”
“Sit on my face.” I smile.
Her mouth drops open in shock, but come the fuck on. She’s got to be pretending. “Jordan.”
I mimic her. “Amanda.”
Her cheeks turn pink. I guess she is actually a little…what? Embarrassed? “Are you serious?”
“Serious as fuck,” I tell her in my most solemn tone. I tug on her ass again. “Come on.”
“Oh God.” She releases a shuddery breath and closes her eyes, her entire body trembling. Pressing her lips together, she moves away from me, and my hands fall away from her ass. Now it’s my turn to frown at her in confusion. But the confusion evaporates quickly, because she crawls closer, so she’s right next to me, my mouth mere inches from her thigh. She rises up on her knees, grabs hold of the headboard, swings her leg over my head and straddles me so that we’re face to pussy.
I place my hands on her lower back, lift my head, and make first contact.
The moment his tongue touches my clit, I’m gasping. His hold on me is firm, I can’t make my escape, not that I want to. His tongue takes deep, dragging licks. No part of me is untouched, and I grip the headboard tightly, my knuckles white, my thighs trembling.
God, his tongue feels so…incredibly…good.
We used to do this all the time. Back when we couldn’t seem to get enough of each other. Every chance he got, he’d go down on me. I think he enjoyed turning me into a screaming, gasping mess. It wouldn’t take much—he’d slip his fingers deep inside me, suck my clit, and bam. I’d go off like a rocket. Again, and again, and…
Again.
It feels the same way at this very moment. This entire trip, it’s like we’re young and insatiable. Like we can’t get enough of each other. I thought that would calm down with time and age, but I guess I was wrong.
I’m just as frantic, just as needy as I was when we were eighteen and dying for it—for each other.
His tongue flicks against my clit, ratcheting the tingly sensation that’s a warning my orgasm is coming soon. I lift up a little and start to move my hips, tilting my head down so I can watch him.
And what a sight it is, having Jordan Tuttle lying between my legs. His big hands squeeze my butt, his fingers perilously close to my crack, his lips sucking my clit. Throwing my head back, I close my eyes and rub against him unashamedly, desperate for release, knowing it’s close. Right there, on the horizon. I’m reaching for it. Reaching…
His hand is suddenly there, fingers toying with my clit, searching my folds, slipping inside of me. He curves them, hitting that mysterious spot deep within, and that’s it. I’m coming all over his face, sobbing his name as the tremors rack my body. He keeps going, though, never stopping, and oh my God, another orgasm is there, just behind the first one.
Meaning I’m coming again. I swear tears form in my eyes and I can barely breathe as I beg him to stop.
“Do you really want me to stop?” he asks once I’ve calmed down some. I can’t even look at him right now. It’s like I don’t want to face the one who tortures me the most. “I can make another one happen.” He pinches my clit between his fingers as if to prove his point, making me shudder.
“I don’t know if I can take it.” I’m breathless. I can barely talk. Glancing down, I watch as he gently circles my clit with his tongue, his touch light, his fingers sliding in and out of me slowly.