Page 84 of Knot Going Down
Her breasts are perfect. Small and soft, tipped with dusky pink. I lean in, mouth closing around one, sucking gently, and she gasps beneath me. Her fingers fist in the sheets.
I fumble with the drawstring on her shorts, frustration building when the knot won’t budge.
She laughs, breathy and warm, and cups my cheek.“It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got time.”
But I shake my head, heart pounding.No, pretty girl. We don’t.Not with this ache inside me, this fire only she can soothe. I whimper again, a raw sound in the quiet room.
Her breath hitches, fingers curling against my skin like she’s trying to memorize the moment. She’s nervous, excited, aching to be close. All of it written in the flush on her cheeks, the shine in her eyes. She’s all lit up, trembling and eager and so damn beautiful I can hardly breathe.
She slips her hand between us and undoes the tie on her shorts with practiced ease, then lifts her hips to help me slide them down. Only her soft blue panties remain, clinging to curves I crave. I peel them away slowly, reverently, even as I push off my own.
Now, nothing separates us.
We see each other fully in the dim glow. Flushed skin, trembling limbs, eyes brimming with emotion. Hovering over her, I press a hand between her breasts until I feel the soft, steady rhythm of her heart.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper.
Her eyes shine. “So are you.”
We kiss again, deeper, slower. And then we’re moving together, limbs tangling, thighs sliding between each other’s. The friction makes her moan, and I echo the sound.
I trail kisses down her body until I’m between her legs, the scent of her arousal rich and heady. Smoked vanilla and amaretto. I want to lick up every drop.
When I slide a finger into her, she gasps, her body welcoming me. My hips grind against the mattress, aching with emptiness. I taste her, slow and indulgent, memorizing her with my tongue.
When she comes, shaking under my mouth, it’s like she’s the only thing that’s ever tasted right. Like I’ve been starving for her and didn’t know it until now. But even then—even with her falling apart for me—the ache inside me snarls, greedy and wild. I need more. I needeverything.
“More,” I whisper against her skin, voice breaking.
She pulls me back up, cradling me gently, her fingers finding my slick center. “Is this okay? Am I doing it right?”
Her touch wrecks me. I’ve needed this—her—for so long it hurts. And now that she’s finally touching me,reallytouching me, it’s like my body can’t decide whether to melt or burn.
“A little hi—oh!—there,” I gasp.
Her touch is gentle. Almost hesitant. But it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Warm, grounding, real. Like she’s not just touching my body, but reaching into every cracked, aching place inside me and stitching it back together.
“Deeper,” I murmur.
She’s breathing heavily as her finger slips all the way inside. We both moan together, and then she’s working her way down my body, licking a path to the apex of my thighs. Slow and tentative she traces my entrance with her tongue.
“Y-yes.” I exhale the word.
The way she tastes me is so tender, tears fall down my cheeks. No one’s ever touched me the way she does.
“So good,” I praise. “Now, flatten your tongue a little like—ah!Yes. Like that!” Such a fast learner. My girl. My beta. I fist the sheets, trying to keep from grinding against her face. But it feels so good.
This is what I needed.
Spine-tingling pleasure consumes me, and I come calling her name. But the euphoria doesn’t last.
“More,” I yell. “Need…” What do I need? Something? My body feels all wrong.
There’s a shift in the air. A flood of scent crashes over me. Lush evergreen. Warm leather. Sunshine and sweet fruit. It spikes something low in my belly, makes my skin prickle and my breath catch.
But I can’t think, can’t place it. Can’tbreathearound the wanting.
“Oh, Ava.” She kisses a path to my lips, tasting of blackberries and cheesecake andme. Just as she should. I want her to always be covered in my scent.
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