Chapter 26 Gracie #2
I flush with pleasure all over again as he unknowingly flicks the tiny thorn of shame and regret I’ve carried over them into outer space. But then he’s gently tugging my ankles apart, and I forget to tell him how much I like his ink, too.
“This all right?” he asks, rough and quiet.
If by “all right” he means life-destroying, then sure. Yes. I take two wobbly steps wider. At this point, if he doesn’t touch me, it’s a very reasonable concern that I might cry.
Thankfully, he seems to know it, and his hands start sliding up the backs of my legs. He stops just beneath the curve of my ass, and my thighs begin to shake. He makes a soft, sympathetic sound. “I’m going to take care of you now, okay?”
My breath is just as erratic as my nod. “Please.”
He groans as his hands slide up my cheeks.
Squeezing. Parting. The hot press of his mouth lands on the edge of my panties.
There’s a muffled fuck. A scrape of bottom teeth, a bite, and then his large thumb, straight down the molten center of me.
I gasp at the touch, everything clenching, but his hands only grip my ass harder, spreading me.
“This,” he rasps, pressing his mouth to the soaked fabric. He sucks it away from my skin before releasing it with a wet snap. “This is what I think about, Gracie. All the fucking time.”
I’m on the verge of tears, knuckles white, needing more.
“What else?” I beg. Because it’s not enough that his fingers are yanking my panties down with muttered profanities.
Not enough when his tongue licks into me, or how he grunts at the taste.
I need to be inside his mind, too—to grab hold of that linking thread between us before I completely—
But then his thumb slides beneath his working mouth, circles my clit once, and I’m coming.
It’s fast, shallow, and so unexpected that I can’t make a single sound from my open mouth.
I’m up on my toes, every muscle in me spasming like they’ve been slapped, and Jude is groaning into my pussy, pulling at my hip to get deeper.
I lose myself to the white-hot feeling of it—the wet, filthy noises he’s making, and the slick pad of his thumb, rubbing me just this side of too hard.
A cry tears from my throat at last, and I can’t hold myself up anymore.
My knees knock together, and I’m collapsing, until Jude pulls me backward, into his lap.
“I knew it. Fucking knew it.” He’s muttering like a conspiracy theorist, his chest heaving, hands stroking my hair. Meanwhile, my head lolls back onto his shoulder, knowing nothing. “So responsive, aren’t you? My fucking dream girl.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to expect any intelligible response. I’m only barely aware that he’s maneuvering my drenched and twisted panties down past my knees.
They fall to the ground off my dangling legs, and it’s nice. Nice to be utterly naked against the heat of his much larger, fully clothed body. Gently, he hooks his hands beneath my closed knees and arranges them over his own.
“I’ve thought about this, too,” he says, and I gasp a little when, abruptly, his knees spread wide, taking mine with them.
“Jude, I can’t—” I protest, but his fingers are already stroking through the utter mess I’ve made of myself, showing me that, actually, I can.
“When you let me drive you to the cake shop,” he says, his lips against my damp temple, “you kept rubbing your thighs together in that goddamn skirt.” His hips shift, and I become suddenly aware of the unrelenting press of his erection behind me.
“It made me think you might want me half as much as I want you. But you were—”
He stops. Exhales sharply.
“What?” I whine, squirming against his lazy circles.
“You were being such a little brat,” he scolds, voice low with some unholy combination of annoyance and hunger.
“Telling me you wanted to be friends? Making me so fucking jealous of my best friend that my teeth ached?” His grip on my inner thigh becomes vise-like as a breath gusts out of him.
“I wanted to reach under your skirt to feel how wet you were. Make you admit exactly how friendly you wanted me to be.”
He pushes a thick fingertip into me, just to the first knuckle, and I flutter helplessly around him. “Is this friendly enough for you, Gracie?”
I bite into my lip with a moan, my feet locking behind his immovable calves as he spreads me wider. “N-no,” I stutter, arching my hips up, nails digging into his forearms. “More.”
“No more?” He tuts, and I could kill him for teasing me.
“Jude,” I say, but it comes out in a feral growl I didn’t know I was capable of.
He kisses the side of my head like I’m sweet, and then slides his finger deeper. When he starts rocking his thumb against my clit, I see stars for the second time.
“Christ,” he bites out as his other hand presses on my low belly, holding me tighter to his lap as I buck. He’s rock hard beneath me, immense, and I’m dripping in his hand.
“More,” I whimper again, thighs shaking uncontrollably as I lift my head to look down at where he’s still pumping into me. “Tell me more.”