She stares at me for a long moment, as though she’s waiting for me to laugh. When I don’t, her lips part, and that little breath she lets out—it’s everything.
I brush my thumb over her clit, surprising her before I take my fingers out of her and kiss her again. Slowly. Deeply. Until she melts into it. When her body relaxes beneath me, I pull back.
She nods shyly. “O-okay.”
I shift, guiding her up the bed until her shoulders hit the headboard. Her chest is rising, her legs are trembling a little as my hands trail up her thighs, and I remove her panties. She tries to close her legs, but I part them enough to fit in between.
“W-What are you doing, Jamie?”
“Getting comfortable. I want the best view.”
Her face flames red as she hides behind her hands. “You can’t be serious.”
I grin, leaning close enough that my breath hits her skin. “I’m completely serious.”
I take one of her wrists gently, lowering her hand from her face. “Don’t hide from me, Tiff. Not now.”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t pull away. I press a kiss to the inside of her knee, then higher.
“Let me see what makes you feel good. I want to learn everything about you.”
Her eyes soften, and she gives the smallest nod.
I take her hand again, guiding it slowly down the soft plane of her stomach. Her fingers tremble as they trace lower, until the tips finally brush her slick center. The sound she makes—half gasp, half moan—goes straight to my dick, which is already rock hard and throbbing.
I don’t move. I just watch.
Her fingers start in slow, tentative circles over her clit, and after a few circles, she gets bolder. Two of her fingers slide down and dip shallowly inside her before gliding back up to rub her clit in tight, frantic circles. Her hips roll up into her hand in small, needy rocks.
I’m transfixed, watching the way her thighs tremble, and how wet she’s making herself.
She keeps moving, slow and shaky, and I can feel her pleasure pouring out of her in waves.
“Jamie…” she breathes, like she’s warning me, but her hips don’t stop.
I trail my fingers up her thigh, stopping just short of where she’s touching herself. “You look so beautiful,” I whisper. “You don’t even know.”
Her fingers start to falter, her breath hitching. She’s close but hesitant, caught somewhere between wanting to let go and being shy about it.
I lean in until my hand is settled on her upper thigh, and my thumb brushes against her folds. “Will you let me, Tiff,” I murmur. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
When she nods, I bring my hand between her thighs and start to mimic her movements. My two fingers slide through her slick folds, circling her clit the same way she just did, then dips lower to push inside her slowly.
“Like this?”
I murmur, curling my fingers the way I watched her do, stroking that same sensitive ridge inside.
She nods frantically, lips parted on a soft, desperate whimper. “Yeah, just like that.”
I feel her pussy clench around me as I keep to the rhythm she set. Shallow thrusts, then deeper.
Every time I pull out, my fingers come away, shining with her.
I lick my lips, my throat tight with raw hunger. She looks fucking delicious. I’ve never wanted to taste anyone like this before. Never felt this clawing, possessive need to bury my face between someone’s thighs and drink them down. But with her? It’s all I want. All I can think about.
I bend down and press my lips to her clit.
She whimpers, her whole body jerking toward my mouth.