Chapter 17 #2
Her lips part for me, allowing our tongues to dance in a perfectly choreographed symphony. I suck on her bottom lip and her tongue as she presses her body against mine. Her pebbled nipples brush against my chest.
Fuck. I bet she’s not wearing a bra.
I slide my free hand up her thigh, trailing along the curve of her hip until I reach the hem of her T-shirt.
A gasp escapes her when I touch her bare skin, causing goosebumps to erupt on her arms. God, I love how sensitive she is to my touch.
How a single stroke can rile her up. Turn her on.
Make her wet. How I’m the only one who gets to experience this with her. Forever.
Our kiss becomes more frantic as I drag my hand up her stomach, slowly going higher and higher until I brush against the underside of her breast. Fucking knew I was right.
Stripping off her bra after work is part of Kate’s daily ritual, one I fully support.
Hell, I’d prefer if she never wore one when it’s just the two of us.
“Stop teasing me, Jake,” she groans as I swipe my thumb over her nipple, refusing to fully give her what she wants.
“Need something, sweetheart? Tell me, and it’s yours,” I murmur, licking her neck, enjoying her quivering.
Without saying a word, she straddles me, stripping off her shirt and placing her hands on my shoulders, pushing me against the couch. Kate taking control is so fucking hot. Like a jolt of lightning to my cock, making it harder and pulsating, desperate to be inside her.
“I want you,” she whispers, dragging her lips across my cheek. “Want to show you how much I love being your muse. How much your songs mean to me. How proud I am of you.”
“What do you have in mind?” I ask, curious to know what she’s thinking.
What she wants to do. Wondering if we’re about to christen another room in the house.
God, I’ve fantasized about having her in the studio.
I put off making it happen because I was worried I’d get a rock-hard boner remembering it and focus on those memories instead of writing.
But I’m far enough along with the album to make this a reality without constantly being distracted by the memory of fucking her in this room.
She grinds her core against my hard length, teasing me with each movement.
She reaches for the hem of my shirt, and I lean forward to help her pull it off.
Immediately, her hard nipples graze my chest, sending a shiver down my spine.
With my hands on her ass, I thrust my hips as she rolls against me, providing us both with the friction we’re chasing.
“I want your cock in my mouth. Want you to fuck my face,” she says confidently, continuing to move against me. “Want you begging for my pussy.”
My body stills. Frozen for a second as my brain short-circuits. Is she serious?
When did the sweet, innocent woman I started dating months ago turn into a fucking sex goddess?
She went from feeling uncomfortable in bed to taking charge and turning me on with her hot-as-fuck dirty talk.
It wouldn’t be a surprise if she makes me come in my pants one day merely from the words coming out of her mouth.
“Ladies first,” I reply with a wicked smile, lifting her off my lap and pushing her back against the couch before I drop to my knees.
Tugging off her leggings in one pull to find what I hoped—she’s not wearing any goddamn panties.
I growl, heat burning in my eyes as I meet her gaze.
The glint that tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing.
She squeals when I grab her waist, pulling her to the end of the couch, draping her legs over my shoulders, and descending my mouth onto her delectable pussy.
Lick. Suck. Flick. Repeat.
She writhes underneath me, alternating between pants and moans, enticing me to keep up the rhythm.
Ready to amp up her pleasure, I slide two fingers inside her, and the walls of her core immediately clamp around them, making it difficult to thrust in and out.
The friction of my fingers, combined with the nonstop devouring of my mouth, causes her back to bow off the couch, pushing my tongue firmer against her clit.
When I suck harder than I have all night, she shatters.
Her pussy squeezes my fingers, practically pushing them out of her with the force of her orgasm.
My mouth refuses to relent. Continuing to lick, suck, and flick.
Demanding she ride out the high of her release.
Wanting to milk every drop from her. Desperate to satisfy her every need.
As her body shakes beneath me, my firm grip eases up slightly as her muscles relax, basking in the euphoria of another toe-curling wave of pleasure.
I tear my mouth away, instantly missing the feeling of her warm core against my lips.
The smell that is undeniably her—a mixture of lavender, fresh air, and heaven.