Now I understand. Whether she likes it or not, she never purged me from her heart. “Be honest. Why did you come?”
Whitney softly blushes. “I think you know.”
I finally do. And I’m so fucking relieved.
Fighting a smile, I climb on the bed again, forcing her to her back and hovering over her as she lies bare and vulnerable. “I won’t lie to you. I plan to exploit your feelings.”
“I know.”
And that’s why she’s terrified. But it’s a two-way street. Maybe she hasn’t figured that out yet, but I doubt it will take her long to realize that no matter how many years have passed, how far I’ve traveled, or how many hookups I’ve used to forget her—it was all futile.
“I understand.”
“And?”
“Let’s try this again. Do you want me to kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to give you an orgasm?”
An emphatic nod accompanies her response. “Yes.”
“Are you going to surrender your body and will to me?” When she hesitates, I press. “Lie to me if you want. But don’t lie to yourself. If you don’t give in now, won’t you spend the rest of your life wondering what if?”
Her eyes slide shut, as if she can’t quite face the answer. She looks like she’s fighting tears. “Yes.”
Finally, she’s being really, truly honest.
“Then offer me your mouth.”
She closes her eyes, curls her arms around my neck, and lifts her face to me.
I’ve waited nearly three thousand empty days—and nights—for this. If my life depended on resisting her invitation, I’d be utterly doomed.
With a rush of breath, I bend and slant my mouth over hers, losing myself in the sweet spice of her kiss, in the whispered promise of what might be between us.
When I finally back away long moments later, my heart pounds. My breaths are unsteady. “Good. Offer me your nipples.”
It takes her a minute to puzzle out my meaning. Impatience nearly rubs me raw before she finally cups her breasts and lifts them to me.
“That’s it. Who do those belong to?”
“You.”
“Yes.” I fall to my elbows like a man kneeling at the altar of her nipples and take a stiff one in my mouth again, sucking, laving, tasting, tonguing, and tugging until Whitney claws at me, urgent for more.
With a final lingering lick, I back away from the hard, glossy crests. “Now offer me your pussy.”
Her breath catches. She bites her lip as she meets my desperate stare—then flares her knees wider and raises her hips to me.
Oh, thank god, yes.
I can’t even pretend to be removed or restrained. I drag my lips down her body without any teasing or finesse, with one imperative in mind.
To get her on my tongue.
Quickly, I wriggle down until I wedge my shoulders between her spread legs and lie on my belly, inches away from the succulent nirvana. She’s swollen and rosy and pouting. When I part her with my thumbs and my gaze devours her most secret flesh, it’s as if I’ve opened a whole new world. Yes, I’ve seen a woman’s pussy before—lots of them. But this is the one I’ve craved for too many years.
My nostrils flare. I bite back a groan of need at her hard red clit silently begging me.
“Jett?”
“Do you tingle?”
“Yes.”
“Do you ache?”
“Yes. I want you so much I’m cramping and throbbing. Please…”
If she’s switched tactics and decided to use my own weakness against me, she couldn’t have played her hand any better.
“Fuck.” I grip her thighs and lift her to my hungry mouth, needing to worship her.
It seems like I’ve waited millions of barren minutes, but I’m finally pressing my greedy mouth against her pussy and dragging my tongue through her folds. Then I suck in her clit, drawing on her, pulling and working her stiff bud until she moans.
The second her spicy-sweet flavor coats my relentless tongue and registers in my brain, all my grand plans to toy with her half the night, then make her pant and scratch her way through a savage blow job before I ramp her up again—only to refuse her relief until she begs me to fuck her however I like—all fall away.
Now I only want her to surrender to the pleasure I give her…and the possibilities of our future.
“Come for me, princess.” I swipe my way through her furrow again, drowning in her taste, desperate for her. “Come.”
Under me, she grips my hair until my scalp tingles, gyrating and mewling, thighs parting more, cunt turning sweeter. “Jett…”
“Do it.” I suck on her clit, tongue working the stone-hard tip. “Give in.”
“Jett,” she gasps, the sound rising another octave as her spine twists and her head falls back.
I glance up at the mirror above. The beautiful agony on her face undoes me. “Goddamn it, you’re mine.”
Relentlessly, methodically, I dismantle her with my touch. I’m never going to get enough of her. Ever. Hell, I’m still half-dressed, and I feel dangerously close to coming undone.