34. Josie
THIRTY-FOUR
JOSIE
I don’t know what has more of an effect on me—his mouth or his words. Or maybe it’s his fingers.
All I know is I’m completely overwhelmed by the desire taking over my entire body.
It builds and builds, tight and completely unrelenting, like a rubber band that’s been stretched too far, ready to snap.
There’s an ache between my thighs that borders on painful. I want to press my legs together to chase some kind of relief, but I can’t. Not with Tyson between them. Not when I don’t want him to move.
I want the opposite.
I want him as close as possible.
“Ty,” I breathe against his lips, my voice barely there.
He stills for a moment, just long enough for me to ache for more. Then his mouth leaves mine as he drags it slowly along my jawline instead. The small trail of kisses makes my breath catch.
“Oh, the things you do to me when you call me that,” he murmurs, his voice rougher now.
His grip tightens on my inner thigh. There’s a tightness in his features—and an air around us that’s almost palpable—that makes it clear he’s still holding himself back.
I try not to smile at knowing that this is affecting him just as much as it is me.
His mouth moves to my neck, his movements so slow and deliberate. He starts out with a soft kiss—but then there’s teeth.
I gasp, my fingers gripping at his hair as pleasure moves through my entire body—the feeling sharp and hot all at once.
He soothes the pain with his tongue immediately. He softly runs his tongue over the tender spot as he lets out a satisfied groan, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
His other hand works hard at teasing me by dragging this out. He traces slow circles along the inside of my thigh, so close it’s almost cruel.
“There are so many things I want to do to you,” he announces, his lips moving against my collarbone. He slowly pushes me down onto the counter, his mouth still moving along my skin, leaving agonizing pleasure in its wake.
I want to speak up and tell him to do them, but I can’t form words. Not with the way his fingers slip underneath the strap of my thong.
He hooks his finger around the fabric, but leaves it there for a moment as a tease.
“Ty,” I say again, somehow unable to come up with any other words than his name.
He’s just so close to touching me where I want him most, and I’m desperate for it.
So desperate that I don’t even care that the counter is cold against my back and that he’s about to have me spread open in his kitchen like I’m the dessert.
Coldness hits my face as Tyson stands to his full height. He keeps one hand hooked around the fabric of my thong. The other moves from the back of my neck. He brushes his knuckles against my cheek softly, his gaze locked on mine as he lets his hand explore.
I can’t look away from him. His pupils are so dilated I can barely see the denim-blue irises I can’t stop thinking about. Something shifts in his expression. There’s an intensity in it that has me more than ready to find out how he’ll put that intensity to good use.
His thumb presses lightly on my lip before slipping away. His attention drops to his hand—as if he wants me to feel where his gaze moves.
“What are you doing to me?” he rasps. The words come out so quiet, I can’t help but wonder if I was supposed to even hear them in the first place.
“Whatever it is, you’re doing it to me too,” I answer honestly.
His lips twitch with the hint of a smile as his stare meets mine once again. My response must satisfy him because the finger hooked around the fabric of my thong moves slightly, inching the fabric down slowly.
“Good,” he finally gets out. He moves his gaze from mine to follow the trail of the hand exploring my body.
It’s reached my chest. His thumb gently brushes over my nipple.
I’m so touch-starved for him, I can’t help but moan at the small amount of contact.
“I have to be honest with you, though,” he continues, his voice controlled.
His thumb swipes over my nipple again—this time harder—causing another moan to escape me.
“How so?”
He pinches my nipple through the fabric of my dress.
“Once I taste you”—his gaze moves from my nipple to between my thighs, making it clear where he means—“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.
You better have meant it when you said you wanted more from me because more of you still might not be enough. ”
I close my eyes for a moment, his words making my clit throb. Before I can even respond, he’s leaning in and taking my nipple into his mouth, despite the thin layer of fabric that covers it.
I let out a loud moan. I don’t know if I love the way he’s teasing me or if I hate it, but either way, I know I’ve never been so desperate for even the smallest touch from a person the way I am for his.
“Your nipples have been teasing me all night,” he announces.
“They’ve been hard and straining against your dress from the moment you showed up at my door.
” He pushes the fabric to the side, exposing my breast to him.
His breath is hot against my skin as he leans in.
“You were naughty, wearing a dress I could see right through. I was trying to enjoy dinner, but I couldn’t help looking at your perfect tits, imagining what it’d be like to do this.
” His tongue peeks out and circles around my nipple before he takes it completely in his mouth.
I moan, my eyelids fluttering shut as he continues to circle his tongue around the peaked bud at the same time as his finger in my thong inches closer and closer to my clit.
“Did you wear this dress just for me, Josie?” he asks, his voice low, thick with something that has my stomach clenching.
All I can do is nod.
Tyson must not like that I didn’t answer him because his mouth moves from my nipple as he looks up just enough for his eyes to meet mine. “Tell me. Use your words to tell me that you put this dress on just for me.”
He tugs on the fabric of my thong, coaxing it down my thighs. When I still don’t answer him, he halts the movement of my panties.
“I wore it just for you,” I hurriedly get out.
A slow, satisfied smile curves his mouth. “Good girl.”
The words send a wave of heat and desire through me.
To further prove a point, he yanks on the lacy fabric of my thong and pulls it off my body. Instead of tossing it to the side, he tucks it into his pocket as his gaze stays locked between my thighs.
My instinct is to close my legs—to hide—but his hands are there, firm on my legs, as he holds me open.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his gaze dragging over me slowly like he’s taking everything in. “You’re beautiful.”
The way he says the words—quiet, almost like he’s in awe—makes something in my chest tighten.
I don’t feel exposed at all.
I feel wanted.
Desired.
Craved.
A feeling like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
“So wet for me,” he marvels. As if he can’t get enough, he pushes the fabric of my dress up until it bunches around my waist. One of my breasts still hangs out—my nipple still wet from his mouth—while all of me from my hips down is on complete display for him.
My thighs tremble under his strong hands as he shifts closer. His touch slides higher and slower this time, like he’s deliberately trying to draw this out to tease me.
His mouth finds my skin again, but not where I was expecting him. He presses a kiss to my inner thigh, so soft it’s like a tease.
And then he does it to the other.
He’s close, but it still isn’t enough. I feel like my entire body is on fire, waiting for him to finally touch—and taste—me. All he’s done is play with my nipple, and I’m so turned on that I already feel like I’m close to coming.
He then presses a kiss in the crease where my hip meets my pelvis—dangerously close to where I want him but still not there.
I’m about to say something—maybe even beg—when his fingers finally slide through me.
The feeling of him finally touching me there steals the air from my lungs. My body reacts instantly, my hips bucking, chasing the feeling. Another moan leaves my lips at the contact.
“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “You feel that?”
I can’t answer. Not when everything in me is focused on him—on what his finger is doing. On the way he moves it through my wetness and pays close attention to every breath and reaction from me.
“Every little touch,” he continues, his voice raspy, “and you fall apart for me.”
Heat courses through my veins at his words. My head falls backward and hits the counter as I let out another moan.
He doesn’t speed up or rush like I thought he would. It makes it worse—but also better at the same time.
His breath is warm against my clit. He’s holding my thighs open, forcing me to stay completely bared to him. “Can I?” he rasps.
All I can do is nod.
He pushes one thick finger inside me at the same moment his tongue circles my clit.
My hips buck at finally feeling his mouth there.
Tyson’s lips close around my clit, and he lets out a groan, the vibration from the sound feeling so good against my core. He sucks my clit into my mouth while his finger starts to push inside me faster.
His mouth leaves me for a moment. “Look at me,” he demands, before pressing his mouth to me once again.
I force my eyes open as hot desire runs through me again.
His gaze is locked on mine. It’s intense—like he just doesn’t want to taste me, he wants to watch what it does to me.
Like he’s learning me.
The realization makes my eyelids flutter shut again despite his command to look at him.
It’s not just what he’s doing. It’s the way he’s seeing me while he’s doing it, caring enough to learn what I like and make this incredible. I asked him to show me more, and he is.
“Ty,” I gasp, getting closer to coming—something that’s never happened this fast.