Chapter 30
LENNON
The first touch of his tongue was bliss.
The second nearly rendered my soul from my body.
There was nothing tentative about the way Jeremiah ate me. Nothing gentle about the way his hands clenched my hips, wrenching me upward, grinding me against his feasting mouth. Teeth and tongue and lips. He used them all to take his fill of me.
I came before I knew what was happening. It barreled into me like a freight train, giving me no time to prepare. My back arched and I cried out as the pleasure seared through me.
But he didn’t stop. My body jerked as his tongue hit my over-sensitized clit. “Jeremiah,” I gasped. “Wait, please, oh my god—”
He pulled back, frowning like I had cancelled Christmas. He dragged the back of his hand across his damp mouth. “More,” he demanded.
And then dove back in.
Oh god, oh god—
His touch bordered on pain. I shrieked and my thighs clamped around his head. With a dark chuckle, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to my inner thigh. “Too much? Right there”—he tapped my clit gently with his finger—“that’s too much?”
I nodded, slowly letting my legs fall open again. “I need a minute.”
“I’ll wait.”
But then he slipped his hands under my ass and lifted me to his mouth like a chalice. I tensed. With a soothing murmur, he slid his tongue inside me. He took a long, lingering lick and then another.
“Does that hurt?” he asked, and then did it again.
It didn’t hurt. His tongue turned my insides to hot liquid. I was melting like a lit candle. He arched an eyebrow at me, the only way he could communicate when his mouth was full of my pussy, and I said, “No, it doesn’t hurt.”
His tongue was gentle as he savored me. He kept going like he wanted nothing else but this. My pussy, his mouth. He made a sound of utter contentment as his tongue swept inside me again and again. This wasn’t for my pleasure. It was all for his.
I stared down at his golden head between my thighs. The broadly muscled shoulders. His beautiful, capable hands that held my body to his mouth. It was the most gorgeously erotic thing I had ever witnessed, this man on his knees bringing us both pleasure.
My pussy squeezed and he made a low, hungry sound.
“More,” I pleaded.
He gave it to me, pressing eager, open mouthed kisses all over my pussy before once again finding my clit. He swirled his tongue around the slip of flesh, gently at first, like he was testing how much I could take. I pushed against his mouth, giving him my answer.
His hands wrapped my thighs, pulling me open, and his mouth latched onto my clit.
He sucked gently and then more firmly as I moaned.
And then I was coming again, hips bucking against his mouth, my head thrown back as stars exploded in my vision.
His fingers dug into my hips with bruising force and he groaned, shoulders straining forward.
“Oh, my god.” I blinked at the ceiling. “Oh, my god.”
He made a happy sound and pressed his cheek to my belly. I sifted my fingers through his hair, craning my neck to look down at him. He looked back at me with a sated, almost sleepy smile.
“Defiled your bullfrog onesie. Sorry about that. You tasted too good. Couldn’t stop myself from spilling.”
I snickered. “So your deflowering will have to wait?”
“At least ten minutes.”
I laughed softly. His hair slipped through my fingers like spun gold.
I gave him a little scratch with my nails and he made that happy sound again.
My chest felt tender as I looked down at him.
Warm and achey. This must be that love hormone that released with the orgasm. I had thought it was a myth.
I had orgasmed before, but it had never left me like this.
As though something precious had been placed in my care.
It was beautiful and terrifying all at once.
I wanted to cuddle him closer, heal all his hurts, and I didn’t know what to do with any of that.
The only person I knew how to take care of was myself.
I squirmed under the sudden heaviness of his body. Half laughing, half groaning, Jeremiah levered himself off of me. He dropped a kiss on my forehead before getting to his feet.
“Come on.” I let him pull me to my feet. He smirked as his shirt tumbled to the tops of my thighs. He caught hold of the plackets and tugged. “Looks better on you than me. You can keep it.”
I want to keep you. But the words lodged in my throat, choking me.
“I think this is going in the trash.” He stepped out of the frog onesie and headed for the kitchen.
I snatched it from him before he could make good on his threat. “Don’t you dare! I’ll put it in the wash.”
He laughed but let me have it. “You know I’m not wearing that again.”
“Not for karaoke. But unfortunately for you, giving me the best orgasm of my life while rocking a frog onesie unlocked a new kink in me. I’m going to need a repeat performance.”
His gaze was heated as he caught my hand and pulled me toward his bedroom. “Anytime.”
The way he looked at me made my insides clench with longing. Anytime. I yearned for that. For years stretched out before us, filled with love and sex and inside jokes and Jeremiah in a frog onesie. All the things I couldn’t have.
But right now, he was mine. And I was going to make the most of the time we had left. I stretched up on my toes and kissed him.
An acrid smell made my nose wrinkle. It must have hit him at the same time because his eyebrows drew together, and then his expression cleared as he remembered. “The campfire. Our friends are waiting for us.”
“Or we could—”
Shouts pierced the air.