I gasped. But it wasn’t enough.
“More,” I whimpered.
With lazy movements, he withdrew his finger and licked it clean. “Soaked.” Then he threw my leg over his shoulder and licked me in all the right spots.
I shuddered. Leaning against the wall and closing my eyes. His enthusiasm and excitement only turned me on more.
Even so, there was always that insecurity…
“You don’t need to,” I said weakly.
“Shh,” he said. “Don’t interrupt me when I’m eating.”
Giggling, I tugged harder on his silky hair.
Before long, he was slipping those fingers inside me again, filling me and making me cry out. I was close, so close, and he was expertly breaking down every defense I’d ever put up.
“Fuck,” I cried out as I came, riding his face with abandon, pressing one hand to the wall to keep from falling over.
I should have known I didn’t need to. Because Josh kept me steady with his arms even as his tongue teased out the last of my orgasm. I was still out of breath, my thoughts jumbled when he swept me up into his arms and deposited me on his bed gently.
“Get naked,” I said. Pushing up onto my elbows.
Looking at me, rubbing at the back of his neck, he looked almost shy.
“Come on, Lawrence,” I teased. “Take it off.”
That shy smiled appeared, and then he was dragging his T-shirt over his head, giving me an unobstructed view of his broad chest, his dark chest hair, and the sheer width of his shoulders. He wasn’t cut like an athlete, but he was thick and strong from hard work. And every inch of him was irresistible.
“Pants,” I commanded, spreading my legs wide.
Eyes glassy and locked on my core, he pushed down his pants and underwear. When he stood straight again, his cock unabashedly alert, I licked my lips.
With a sigh, he stroked himself.
“Oh my God,” I breathed, nearly fainting. “That’s hot. Do it again.”
He lowered his focus to the floor between us, looking self-conscious.
“Please,” I begged, dragging my fingers down my chest and stomach, stopping at my hipbone.
That did it. His eyes were locked on mine again a heartbeat later as he stroked himself.
“You like this?”
I nodded, heat flooding me.
“Good. Now imagine me doing this every single morning while I think about you,” he gritted out. “All night I dream about you, Celine. And then I wake up rock hard and shaking.”
Moaning, I slid my hand lower and brushed my clit.
“Then I get in the shower and fuck my hand, wishing it was you.”
“Condom,” I gasped, slipping a finger inside myself.
He moved quickly, pulling me onto my knees on the bed. “Do you want to be on top?” he asked.
“No,” I said, easing onto the mattress again, arching my back.