Page 89

Groaning, he shifts himself above me and sinks deeper between my legs.
His hardness presses into my core, and heat unfurls within me, the buzz of anticipation humming along the surface of my skin and dipping into the apex of my thighs where he pushes himself against me.
I can’t believe we waited all summer to do this—the thought intrudes, because I know exactly where this is headed, and I don’t have any plans of stopping us.
First, there was all the uncertainty that existed between us. And then there was Jude and hisI’m going to date you properly firstrule. And then there was the Fourth of July, when Addybarged in on us and ended our night too soon. And then finally, there was the other night at the bar, when we didn’t get to do much of anything because Jude was too adorably tipsy—and despite his best, and very tempting, efforts, it didn’t feel right to mark that first off after he’d been drinking. I wanted to savor every moment of our first time together, and I wanted to make sure he was clear-minded enough to, too.
I’d like to go back to every single one of those instances and slap us both silly. Because being with him like this already feels amazing, and we’ve hardly done anything.
“Jude. Clothes. Off.Please,” I manage between each violent assault of his mouth.
My core pulses with desire, aching, desperate to feel him, to be filled with him.
He does what I ask, but it’s a total and complete tease. Each piece of his clothing pulled from his body too slowly, his eyes sinking into mine, the connection between us drumming a fist into the center of time, slowing thetick, tick, tickof seconds dragging us from one moment to the next.
Time moves achingly slow, as slow as his hands as they pull away his last piece of clothing.
Dark boxer briefs slide down his muscled legs, revealing his thick, veiny, beautiful length.
I don’t get to look my fill before he starts in on my own clothes. Slipping my shirt over my head, guiding my pants down my legs, and dragging my bra from my body like he’s unwrapping a gift. Until finally, my underwear goes, and we’re both—beautifully, blissfully—naked, cradled in the comfort of Jude’s bed, in the comfort of how right this moment feels.
He dips his head down and presses so many kisses to my skin that I’m sure he’s counting something. Goosebumps, freckles—something.
I’m not sure I’ll survive it.
Even less so when he grips the base of his shaft, and I watch as he gives it a hard stroke, spreading me open with his other hand and tapping my clit with the head of his dick.
I push off the mattress as a strangled cry falls from my lips.
Lifting his hand, he covers my mouth with his fingers and leans down, his low, gravelly voice sending goosebumps down my neck when he says, “You need to be good and quiet for me, Little D. Eli’s home.”
I nod beneath the weight of his hand, growing wetter, whimpering uncontrollably with the feel of his fingers muffling my sounds.
He keeps his hand there as he slides himself through my folds, coating his length with my arousal, the ridge of his tip slipping over and over my clit with every pass, and I don’t know how he already has me growing close, but with each thrust of his hips, each swipe over my sensitive flesh, I grow closer and closer andcloserto the edge.
He leans down, kisses my neck in a trail from my collarbone to my ear, and groans a, “Fuck, Little D. I can’t wait to watch you come. I need to be inside you, baby. I need to feel you squeezing my cock like you strangled my fingers the other night.” His lips continue a path down my jawline before meeting my own as he releases me from his grip.
He skims his mouth over mine in a featherlight touch, and then pushes closer, filling me with his taste. Our mouths move, and slip, and glide together for a long, blissful stretch of time, content to just kiss and touch and linger and feel. His hand is splayed at my ribcage, his thumb smoothing over my skin, up and down, from below my belly button up to the low swell of my breast. He takes it in his palm and squeezes, before gliding his hand down my side, his thumb tracing a line down the center of my stomach, until his hand is at my hip and his thumb is pressed against my clit.
He circles his firm touch against me, grinding his erection into the mattress beneath us. I cry out, but the sound is quickly quieted by his fingers wrapping over my mouth again.
“That feel good, baby?” he grunts, and the gritty sound slips down my spine.
I nod beneath the weight of his hand, before he pulls it away and replaces it with his mouth yet again.
His teeth grasp onto my bottom lip and drag me up off the bed, closer, my gasp inviting him deeper. He invades my mouth with his tongue, claiming every piece of me he can reach.
And then he parts me with his hand, sliding himself between my folds, rubbing his dick against my clit where his thumb just was, and my head falls back with a loud moan I can’t keep in.
I feel out of control with him on top of me like this, kissing me deep into his mattress, and into another universe entirely, his firm, hard, naked body driving me closer to the edge when all we’re doing is kissing and touching and grinding against each other. It already feels leaps and bounds better than I dreamed it would—because it’s Jude, andof course,it would—but it’s almost too much to handle, and he still isn’t even inside me yet.
His tattooed hand slides over my lips and presses into my mouth, drowning out my sounds. He deep throats me with his fingers, grinding his dick harder against me, and I nearly come just like this.
But I want him inside me first.Needhim inside me first.
I spread my legs wider, lifting my hips and wrapping a hand around him to guide him inside me, but he presses his forehead against mine, heavy breaths expelling from his chest as he pants out, “We need to get a condom, yeah?”
I shake my head. “I’m on birth control. And I’m clean. And I trust you. Please, let me feel you. I just want to feel you.”