43. Mile High Club #2
I read the urgency in her voice. I was leaving.
All we had was this weekend, and then—I couldn’t think like that.
Wouldn’t. “Not going to lie. Those words sound pretty damn good coming out of your mouth.” I mused lazily, despite the anxiety lodged in my chest, “I wonder what else would sound good coming out of your mouth?” I trailed a finger across her waistband, watching her reaction as she sucked in a hard breath.
Fuck, I loved the way she went so soft and needy for me.
I lowered my mouth to her stomach, swearing she actually tasted like strawberries as I tasted every available inch of skin between her waistband and belly button.
Mine to taste, mine to worship, mine to devour.
She whimpered as I moved lower, chest heaving with every panting breath. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I imagined it’d sound like when I kissed you here.” I purred, eating up all her little sounds.
Using my teeth, I dragged her waistband lower, leaving another kiss on her too soft skin as her fingers tightened in my hair. “Carter?” Her breathy voice was slightly uncertain, the look in her eyes reminding me exactly why we needed to take things slow. Not just for me, but for her.
I leaned my forearm on the dash next to her, while I traced her stomach with the pads of my fingers, just gazing at her, mesmerized, waiting. “Yes, pretty girl?”
“Never mind. ” She quickly rasped.
I stopped tracing. “Sara.” I slid my hand up the center of her and gently gripped her throat, tilting her face towards me. “Talk to me.” I pleaded with a puppy-dog pout that earned me a soft laugh. “You can tell me anything.”
She sighed. “Why do I believe you when you look like that?”
“Because it’s true.” I waited quietly all the while, admiring how beautiful she was. Rosy-cheeked, encased in a halo of long goddess-like curls. I didn’t deserve her.
She absentmindedly played with my hair. “I don’t think I’m as experienced as you are, and I…” She trailed off, and I could practically smell her overthinking things in her head.
I stroked her cheek. “There is nothing you can say that will make me feel differently about you. I’m all in, sweetheart.
” I promised, wondering if she understood what I was really saying.
“I’m not a mind reader, though, and it would be helpful to know what’s going through that pretty little head of yours. ”
An exasperated breath out. “Truth. I’m not sure I know what to do.” She said shyly and then added even quieter. “Truth. What if you don’t like how I taste?” She threw an arm over her eyes, covering her face.
Ohhhhhh.
“Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that.” I chuckled, knowing what was between those long, lean legs was a buffet ready to be devoured, and I. Was. Hungry. Starving actually.
Her cheeks were quickly turning a deep shade of crimson, and it was adorable. There was something electric about the pull between us that she responded to me like that—like she couldn’t help it. I fucking loved it .
“It’s—I don’t know—you know?” She groaned, wide-eyed, and too damn adorable for her own good.
“Trust me, I’d love to know.” I huffed a quiet laugh, my cock thickening.
“And you don’t have to do anything.” I brushed the pad of my thumb over the soft spot below her hip bone, watching her reaction.
“You just have to lie back and let me feast.” I could see her pulse flutter—she was nervous, but she was definitely into the idea.
“It just didn’t go well last time.” She blushed a bit, clarifying, “The only time.”
God, my girl had been through so much. I nodded, grateful she trusted me enough to share that, heartbroken that she’d ever gone through it in the first place. “We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“I’m comfortable with you .” She offered breathily, fingers clutching my shirt like her life depended on it.
I chuckled. “Oh, I know.”
“Carter.” She smacked me with a grin, going swishy again. “I just don’t want to disappoint you.” She admitted, and my jaw flexed.
Part of me loved that she was a little shy about all this stuff, a little na?ve, and being the first one to make her feel good, in this way, was hot , but I hated that someone had made her feel this way to begin with.
“Sar, the thought of tasting you drives me wild , and you will never, ever be a disappointment to me. Ever.”
“It does?” Her eyes heated, and I smiled, loving that’s what she’d locked in on.
I offered her a playful shrug. “I think my tongue would drive you pretty fucking wild too.” I teased.
“But I don’t really care what we do tonight, as long as we do it together—I’m just glad I get to spend the weekend with my girl.
” I rested a cheek on my propped-up fist, offering her a mischievous smirk.
Fuck yeah, I loved saying that. So. Fucking.
Much. Mine. Mine. Mine. Wanted to climb up on a roof somewhere and sing about it, and I didn’t even sing.
Sara rolled her lips over her teeth. “I guess… you don’t have to stop what you were doing earlier.” She quickly flopped back, embarrassed by her request, but this was already a huge improvement—she was using her voice and asking for what she wanted.
“What’s the matter?” I grinned and peeled her hands away, again. “Do I make you nervous, pretty girl?”
“Of course not.” She breathed as I settled my hips between her legs, twirling a strand of her hair around my finger.
“Liar.” I chuckled deeply and hummed, “Do you like the thought of my mouth on you?” My cock twitched as I slowly dragged a finger over the swell of her breast and then over a nipple.
“What about the thought of my tongue on you? Tasting you.” I nudged her head to the side to access that tender little place below her ear.
“Ohhh.” She sighed, wrapping her legs around my waist.
“Tell me.” I hummed against her skin.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” I nipped and quickly soothed the place where my teeth had been with my tongue.
“Yes, the thought of you … tasting me.” She said the words slowly, as if it was making her nervous to admit it. “Turns me on. A lot.”
Fuck yeah. Challenge accepted.