Chapter 23 #2
She added a second finger, teasing her fingertips at my entrance before sliding in slowly, one knuckle at a time, giving me time to adjust, to feel the fullness, to feel the wet, delicious stretch.
“Oh … oh God …” I moaned, my hips bucking. “Dani, don’t stop.”
“Never,” she groaned, pressing her mouth to mine. Her teeth and tongue claimed me, fingers sliding in deeper, thrusting hard enough to make me cry out. “You feel incredible. So tight, so wet for me. I could do this all night.”
Her other hand slid under my back, holding me flush to her. She moved her fingers with skill, slow and deliberate, letting me ride the waves building in my stomach, hips bucking uncontrollably, every sound escaping me raw and unfiltered.
The coil in my stomach tightened tighter and tighter. Every stroke, every curl of her fingers, every word of praise made me gasp, until I was shaking, thighs quivering, fingers clutching at her shoulders.
She moaned, her own breath ragged, pressing me into the bed as she continued, driving me higher, until I finally lost it. My muscles clenched hard around her fingers, every nerve screaming, every ounce of me spilling into her hand—loud, raw, and uncontrolled.
She held me through it. Her lips brushed against mine, murmuring my name, steadying me, letting the waves wash through me until I was completely undone, every inch of me slick, hot, and on fire.
I was still trembling when she shifted, pressing her body fully against mine. Her mouth brushed my collarbone, down to my breasts, her lips and tongue tracing over every curve.
Her fingers began to move again inside me, curling, stroking, hitting exactly the right spots.
I moaned, hips bucking involuntarily, grinding down against her palm.
I was past the point of wondering how this was possible.
My body was no longer my own; it belonged to her, to the pleasure she was so expertly wielding.
She shifted lower still until she was pressing her mouth between my legs, teasing my overheated sex with her tongue. My hands clutched her hair and my knees quaked around her head.
“That’s it, baby,” she murmured, her voice muffled against my flesh. “Give me another one. I know you have one more in you. You’re so beautiful when you come for me.”
Her words were the final push. She didn’t stop. Her fingers moved in slow, teasing circles, her mouth alternating between soft kisses on my thighs and long, wet licks along my slit that had me gasping again.
And then, I lost it again—harder, sharper, everything clenching as the waves crashed and rolled through me. She held me tight, fingers still inside me, mouth pressed against me, murmuring my name as I sagged against the mattress, spent, wet, and utterly undone.
This time, there was no coming back from it. I was a puddle. A boneless, blissed-out puddle. I lay there, sprawled on my back, heart hammering, my body humming with a residual pleasure that was almost painful in its intensity. I felt wrung out—used in the best possible way.
I expected Dani to curl up beside me, to hold me, to let us both drift into a well-deserved sleep. But when I managed to crack my eyes open, I saw her leaning back on her heels, her eyes half-lidded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. And her hand was moving between her own legs.
I watched, mesmerized, as her fingers slipped over her sex.
She was so beautiful like this, lost in her own pleasure.
Her head was tilted back, the long line of her throat exposed.
Her high, tight breasts rose and fell with each ragged breath.
She was a goddess, and I was her willing, devoted worshipper.
“You’re too tired,” she murmured softly, as if she’d read my mind. Her fingers circled her clit and I saw her shudder. “You don’t have to—”
I shook my head, my chest rising and falling, no longer from exhaustion. “I’m not tired. I … I want to watch.”
Her lips curved in a slow, wicked smile. “Really?”
“God, yes.” I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry, my pulse jumping. “You have no idea how hot that is.”
Her breath stuttered in her throat as she pressed a hand between her thighs, dragging her slick fingers over herself—fingers that had only recently been inside of me.
My eyes followed every movement. Her lips parted in soft, ragged moans, and I couldn’t help myself—I reached out and brushed my hand against her thigh, feeling her heat, urging her closer.
“Oh, Reese … fuck …” she gasped. She bit her lip, eyes rolling back as she pressed into her own hand. “I—oh, God … I’m so close …”
She looked so delicious, so desperate, so completely undone, and I couldn’t resist any longer. Slowly, deliberately, I slid my hand between her thighs and brushed over her liquid sex.
“Let me,” I murmured, my fingers hovering over hers.
Her head shot up, eyes wide and dark with surprise and need. She stopped moving, her hand frozen between her thighs.
“You started it,” I said, my voice low and thick with need. “Let me finish it.”
Her lips parted in a soft gasp, her breath hitching. “Fuck, please …”
I pressed a finger against her and slowly slid inside. She shivered violently, hips pressing into me. I added a second finger, pumping slowly, dragging her right to the edge.
“God, Reese … yes … oh, fuck,” she moaned. Her nails raked down my shoulders as I matched my rhythm to the little twitches of her hips.
“You like that?” I murmured against her neck, my lips brushing her overheated skin.
“Fuck, yes. Don’t stop,” she begged, her voice ragged. Her tone was less of a command and more like a plea.
I didn’t change the rhythm right away. I kept it exactly where it was—steady, deliberate—letting her feel how close she was, letting it build instead of rushing her through it.
“Reese—” she gasped, her fingers digging into my shoulders hard enough to sting. “I’m—fuck, I’m right there—”
“I know,” I encouraged. “I’ve got you.”
Only then did I press deeper—curling my fingers just a little more, my thumb tightening its slow, relentless circles on her clit.
The reaction was immediate. Her whole body went taut, like a wire pulled too tight. Her head fell back and her breath caught in sharp, uneven pulls as the control she’d been holding onto finally slipped.
Her muscles clenched around my fingers and her hips chased my hand like she couldn’t get enough friction, enough pressure, enough anything to match what was building inside her.
“Reese, please—”
The orgasm hit her hard and fast, ripping through her in a way that stole the rest of her words. Her back arched clean off the mattress, a raw, unguarded sound tearing out of her—something closer to a shout than a moan.
Her body clenched around my fingers, again and again, sharp pulses that didn’t let up.
I didn’t stop either.
I eased the pace of my fingers just enough to let her ride it out—stretching out the orgasm instead of it overwhelming her. Her thighs still trembled on either side of my hand, her hips still moving in small, desperate motions even as the peak started to break, her body chasing the last of it.
“… fuck,” she slowly exhaled.
Only then did I slow completely, carefully drawing my hand away.
Her eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling. She huffed out a breath—half laugh, half disbelief. “You …” she started, her voice raw and still a little dazed. “You just had to take over, didn’t you?”
“Mm,” I hummed. My fingers traced lazy trails down her still-clenching abdomen. “You looked like you needed the help.”
“I was doing fine,” she muttered, but there was no real argument behind it.
“Fine. I wanted to be the one,” I quietly admitted. I brushed my lips against the top of her bare shoulder. “I wanted you to come for me.”
She sighed softly and curled into me. “Show-off.”