Something pulls me forward—some need, or hunger, or something deeper, that tightens every muscle in my body. Takes me over.
I move closer, drawn in by the rhythm of her movements, the soft, broken sounds she makes.
A low growl leaves my throat, and I barely recognize it as mine. I wouldn’t care if the world ended right now.
My breath ghosts over her skin as I lower my head, my tongue brushing her thigh, tasting her.
Fuck…
I don’t have words for it. She’s warm, sweet, intoxicating.
I press closer, breathing her in like I need it to survive.
When my tongue finally touches her, she cries out, her body arching as she fists my hair. “More.”
More.
The word hits me wrong for a second—sharp, uncertain.
More how?
I’ve been with women before, but not like this. Not with her. Not with something that feels this consuming. I’m not Luke. Not smooth. Not confident. I don’t have history with her like Reid does.
All I have is this—thisneed.
And somehow, she still wants me.
I can’t screw this up.
“Please,” she begs again.
I breathe her in, forcing myself to focus. Don’t rush. Listen.
I part her slowly with my tongue. She gasps, her whole body lifting as I flick upward, brushing her clit.
Again.
Then I linger beneath it, feeling it swell against me.
Her grip tightens in my hair, holding me there, silently demanding more.
I almost smile—and then I give myself to her.
Slow at first. Circling. Teasing. Drawing it out just to hear those sounds spill from her lips.
She pulls at my hair, trying to guide me, but I keep my pace, letting the tension build.
She likes it. The push and pull. The edge of control.
“Come on, Tal,” she breathes. “Just do it.”
“Relax,” I murmur. “Lie back.”
“I can’t… I’m burning up.”
“Me too, baby.” The word slips out before I can stop it. “Lie back.”
She does, barely.