26. Maisie #2
He doesn’t finish the sentence. Just kisses my skin, his mouth soft and hot as he sucks gently at the curve of my throat.
I reach up, threading my fingers into his hair. He groans softly when I tug just a little, and presses his hips forward.
Heat pools low between my legs and my breath stutters.
He pulls back just a little, searching my face. “You okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse and rough and so sexy I can’t take it.
I nod, probably a little too fast. “I just…” I try to breathe, trying to get the words out. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He gives me the softest smile. “You don’t have to know. Just tell me what you want, yeah?”
“Okay.”
His lips brush mine again as his hand moves down, skimming my inner thigh, enough to make my breath hitch.
“Maisie,” he says, pausing to look at me, “I need you to tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I don’t,” I assure him, locking eyes with his. “I want this. I want you. I feel comfortable with you.”
He watches me for a few seconds, before he lets out a low groan, and his hand finally slips between my legs, cupping me over my panties.
Oh god.
I let out a sound I’ve never made before, a needy, rough moan, and he swears under his breath as he pulls the cotton aside, and runs his fingers along my pussy.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he grunts, kissing my shoulder as his fingers start to move.
I can’t even think. His touch is soft at first, but when I press into it, hungry for more, he grows bolder, dragging his fingers over me again and again until I’m shaking all over.
He keeps his eyes on me, watching my face, every twitch, every shudder, memorizing exactly how I fall apart under his touch.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs.
“I don’t know,” I breathe, my voice shaky, “but… keep doing that.”
That slow, knowing smile curls over his lips as he keeps doing exactly that. His fingers trace lazy circles, coaxing every inch of me to respond.
“So fucking pretty.”
My hips start to move on their own, grinding against his hand, trembling as my body screams for more.
“You like the way I touch you?”
I moan in response. Every touch, every soft, demanding word from him sets something wild free inside me. I’m dizzy and desperate all at once, completely lost in the way he’s making me feel.
The pressure builds fast, and I can’t stop it. I can’t slow it down. It’s all too much—his voice, his hands, the way he’s touching me like he already knows what I need before I do.
“That’s it,” he whispers, his fingers moving in slow circles that make my thighs tremble. “You’re doing so fucking good for me, baby. You gonna come for me?”
I nod frantically, my breath catching in my throat, but it’s not enough. I need more—I need him—I need?—
It hits me like a wave, breaking me open from the inside out. I cry out as pleasure tears through me in hot, pulsing waves. My thighs clamp around his hand and my nails dig into his back.
“Austin,” I gasp.
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let up. Just keeps his fingers on my clit while pressing kisses on my skin.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he murmurs. “So fucking beautiful when you come. Ride it out, baby.”
I can’t speak. Can’t think. I’m trembling in his arms, barely holding it together as he kisses my cheek, my jaw, my temple, every inch of my skin.
“Goddamn,” he murmurs. “You have no idea how fucking hot watching you come is.”
He kisses me as the rush rolls through me again and again, until I’m breathless. Boneless. My skin tingling all over.
When I finally blink up at him, he’s already watching me with a messy, hungry grin that makes my heart stutter in my chest.
“You good?” he asks again.
I hum into the curve of his chest, soaking in the steady thump of his heartbeat. “Mmhmm. That was…” I can’t even finish my sentence, because I don’t have a word for what that was. Nothing in the twenty-one years I have been on this planet have even remotely felt like that .
He leans in, his nose brushing mine. “Yeah. It really was.”
He kisses me again for what feels like forever. I hum into his mouth, placing my hands on his chest. I could easily lay here and kiss him for the rest of my life.
Austin pulls back slightly, tilting my chin just enough so I’m forced to meet his eyes. “Are you sure you’re good?” His lips twitch into a faint, teasing grin. “You look kinda dazed.”
I blink at him, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “I am dazed. Do people usually survive that?”
His laugh spills out, and it’s impossible not to smile back. He’s just so damn pretty when he laughs. His whole face softens, his eyes crinkle, and those dimples of his that I love sink even deeper into his cheeks.
“I have no idea. It’s never felt like that to me before,” he admits with a warm smile.
I press my forehead to his shoulder, trying to hide the heat crawling up my cheeks.
“You were drinking last night,” I mumble. “I wasn’t sure if you’d remember what you said to me when I woke up this morning.”
He goes still for a beat. Then he pulls back just enough to see me, slipping his fingers under my chin and lifting it gently until our eyes meet. “I wasn’t drunk,” he tells me. “I know damn well what I told you. And I meant every word.”
We hold each other’s eyes in silence, neither of us moving as the morning sun spills through his window, wondering what happens next.
Finally, he breaks the quiet with a slow, cocky smirk. “You’re still wearing my shirt.”
I breathe out a laugh, heat creeping up my neck. “Would you prefer it if I was naked?”
His smirk deepens instantly. “Well…”
I narrow my eyes, shooting him a look, but he just chuckles.
“It looks good on you,” he says as his eyes fall to the length of my body, still lying here in his bed. His lips twitch, the smugness returning. “It’d look even better on my bedroom floor.”
I roll my eyes, but my mouth twitches before I can stop it. “God. You are such a walking cliché.”
“And yet, here you are. In my bed.”
“Against my better judgment.”
“Lies,” he murmurs, nipping lightly at my jaw. “You’re obsessed with me, Freckles.”
I try to shove him, but he’s quicker—rolling on top of me in one smooth move, braced on his forearms, that lazy grin spread across his lips. “Say it,” he teases. “Say you’re obsessed with me.”
I narrow my eyes. “I will not.”
“Say it and I’ll make you breakfast.”
I raise a brow. “Do you even know how to cook?”
“Nope.” He doesn’t even try to deny it. “But I’ll order you whatever you want if you say it.”
I laugh under my breath. “Fine,” I concede. “I’m mildly fond of you.”
He hums, leaning in until his mouth brushes mine in a soft kiss. “Close enough.”
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to kissing Austin Rhodes. I close my eyes and feel every brush of his tongue and his soft lips against mine.
I’m scared I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream. I’m scared it’ll all blow up in my face.
But right now, here in his bed, wrapped in his shirt, and his lips on mine…
I think I’d be okay with taking the risk.