Chapter 25 Ellis #2
Her hands moved to the waistband of my pajama bottoms, tugging gently, as if reminding me they were still on.
That we could go further if I wanted to.
I lifted my hips of my own accord, watching as she hooked her fingers into the material, dragging them—along with my panties—down my thighs, down my legs, and stuffing them at the end of the bed.
I flushed, naked before her, exposed. But she only smiled at me, kneeling between my thighs, and my eyes dropped to her chest, to the perfect swells of her breasts. I wondered what it would be like to kiss them—to lick the skin of her nipples as she had done to mine.
How would she taste?
How would it feel?
She came back to hover over me, her lips moving to the spot just below my ear, where she bit gently. I gasped again, louder this time, as if she had just short-circuited my brain. I could feel how wet I was now, my body pulsing around an empty ache, demanding more than I was getting.
“You’re so beautiful, Ellis,” Dove murmured into my ear.
I didn’t have a chance to respond—words catching in my throat—as her fingers grazed the inside of my thigh, all sound and thought in my mind stalling.
She kissed my neck once more before moving her lips back to mine, just as her hand slid firmly between us.
I let out a groan and a gasp into her mouth as her fingers gently brushed over the heat between my legs.
It was as pleasurable as it was torturous.
“Still okay?” she breathed into my ear, the air hot against my skin, her fingers gliding along me languidly.
I nodded quickly, my mind a mess, all my focus on the movement of her fingers, feeling her spread my wetness before her touch landed on that growing center of need. She swirled her fingers around it once, then twice, and my hips bucked as I clutched at her.
Dove kissed me again, hotly and deeply, her tongue grazing against my own as her hand moved, dancing around that ball of need, but she moved so slowly and gently it was as if she were getting to know me, taking note of my reactions to everything she did.
My legs had fallen open for her, and I was unashamed when she pulled back from my mouth just slightly. I let my hands ride up her sides, noting the gooseflesh that appeared on her skin as I did so.
“Do you want more?” she asked huskily as my hands came to rest at her ribs.
I nodded, my hand sliding to the nape of her neck, pulling her mouth back to mine.
As our lips met, I felt her slip a finger inside me, her thumb remaining on that needy center of nerves, and I moaned softly at the sensation.
My hands glided instinctively to her breasts, cupping the flesh and marveling at the feel of them in my palms.
She was so soft.
So beautiful.
So perfect.
Dove let out a soft gasp at the feel of my hands on her, but they remained there for only a moment before she moved, dragging her body down mine.
Her mouth found my right nipple, tugging the flesh into her mouth, her tongue flicking over the bud as her finger moved within me, a second one joining the first.
“Oh, God,” I gasped, my hips rocking instinctively against her hand, finding the rhythm she had set for us, her thumb moving against me as her fingers continued their torturous movements.
It was an overload of sensation, and I could feel myself climbing, feel her lips moving across my chest as she gave the same attention to my other breast.
My back arched, my nipple pressing further into her mouth, and she groaned softly, her hand quickening. My own hands fisted into the blankets beneath us, and I could feel those small promised fissures of unraveling. Everything felt so good, so right.
Dove felt so right.
Her lips left my chest, and she surrounded me as she moved her mouth to my ear, her fingers curling deliciously inside me as she applied just a little more pressure with her thumb. Her teeth raked along the skin of my ear, and I trembled at the overwhelming onslaught of sensation rising inside me.
“Let go, Ellis,” Dove murmured into my ear, her voice a little ragged. “Come for me.”
It hit me as if I’d been slammed by a tidal wave—some ecstatic dam breaking—as an unbelievable amount of pleasure coursed through me.
I cried out and clutched at Dove, holding her to me as she drew out my orgasm—her fingers still moving, her thumb still circling—as I bucked and ground against her, limbs trembling as I rode out every last wave until the final ebb and flow faded.
I blinked my eyes open in a daze as Dove’s fingers slid from me. She pulled back only slightly to look at me, an almost satisfied grin on her face. I felt wrung out—physically and emotionally—my body trembling, a gentle pulsing of aftershocks between my legs that had my cheeks flushing.
“Was that okay?” Dove asked, her voice soft as she dragged the blanket over us, shielding my naked body from the evening air. She sounded only slightly worried, her fingers moving to dance across my stomach in a way that made it quiver.
“Yeah,” I murmured, my voice soft and a little raspy. “That was… I can’t believe I was going to allow myself to… to not experience that.”
Dove looked at me quizzically. “You’ve had an orgasm before, though, right?”
“No,” I said with a frown. “I told you Alexis and I never—”
“No, I know that,” Dove rushed to say. “I mean—like, you’ve touched yourself before, right?”
My cheeks flushed, and I wanted to roll my eyes at myself. I had literally had her fingers inside me not even sixty seconds ago, and I was blushing over masturbation?
“Not really,” I mumbled. “No. I mean, I was on antidepressants for literally years, plus all the other stuff I’ve had to take. I’ve never really had the… urge.”
Dove blinked at me before a wicked grin spread across her face.
“Did I give you the urge, Ellis Langley?”
I shoved her chest. “Shut up. I’m not on specific drugs anymore. I’ve been feeling all sorts of new things.”
Speaking of feeling things… My gaze drifted over her exposed upper body, my thumb brushing along her bare shoulder.
I wasn’t entirely sure if I was ready to…
give. Did that make me awful in bed? I didn’t know what I was doing with her, didn’t know even half of what I was sure she was capable of doing to me.
“Hey.” Her voice was soft, almost coaxing, as she brushed a strand of hair from my face. “There’s no pressure to do anything else, okay? I’m honestly happy to just cuddle and go to sleep. We can make this one all about you.”
I looked into her warm brown eyes, wondering how I had ever thought anything unkind about her—this kind, gentle, maddeningly knowing human being who made my shoulders drop every goddamn second I spent in her presence.
She leaned in, her lips brushing mine—just a kiss, light and certain—before she slid in behind me on the bed.
Her arm curled around my waist, tugging me into the solid line of her body.
The heat of her pressed against my back, the faint scent of her shampoo, the slow rhythm of her breathing—everything settled into me, sinking deep.
She pressed her lips to the curve of my neck and exhaled softly, her breath warm against my skin.
I let my hand find hers, guiding it up until our fingers laced. I tucked them under my chin, holding them there like a secret. My eyes fluttered closed, and something terrifying and unstoppable unfurled in my chest.
I think I loved Dove Marley.