Page 68 of How Dare You
She pulls her knees up tight to her chest. “I can’t sleep.” She’s tossed and turned all night, stress rolling off her in a wave. “I am sorry I woke you,” she runs her slender fingers across my chest. “I’ll go for a run, and you can stay here and sleep.”
I scoff, “That’s not happening.”
“I need to at least try to clear my head.”
My hand snakes over her hip and between her legs, where I let my thumb strokes small circles on her clit through her panties. A relieved moan escapes her lips. “I could help you clear your head. Would you like that?” I whisper in her ear.
She nods emphatically. “Yes, please.”
“Wait right here.”
“Where are you going?” she complains when I release her.
Devon’s bedroom has a sliding glass door that leads to the backyard that’s covered with heavy curtains. “I want to see you,” I say, pulling the cord to draw them open and let the bright moonlight fill the room.
“Okay,” she whispers, knees still pulled tightly into her chest.
“Shirt off. Knees wide,” I instruct. Her eyes sparkle in the moonlight at the command in my voice, and she’s quick to do both.
I kneel on the bed between her spread thighs, taking in every smooth inch of her toned body in the bright moonlight. “You are stunning.”
Her shy smile is a direct contrast to the way she’s exposed before me.
She points her toes when my hands go to one of her long legs, drawing it up into a point and resting it on my shoulder. Her other leg folds in on instinct. “Keep it open for me,” I say lifting her leg from my shoulder just enough to place a kiss on the arch of her foot. She opens the other wider than it was before.
I indulge in kisses all the way down her beautiful leg. The inside of her ankle. Licking around her toned calf, tasting and kissing. Every inch of this woman deserves to be worshiped. When I glance over at her she’s watching me, a little stunned and she mewls as I lavish kisses on the tender spot behind her knee. Her thighs are just soft enough that I can sink my teeth in, sucking and biting on the tender flesh there.
“That’s going to leave a mark,” she gasps, her hips starting to roll with desire.
I suck harder, finishing with a firm nip of my teeth. “I hope so.”
When I reach her center, she’s already wet for me, and I lick up the slickness gathered there. She cries out at the contact and swiftly claps a hand over her mouth.
I pull back from her just long enough to say, “Don’t you dare hide the sounds of your pleasure from me.” She obeys, throwing her head back into the pillows, moaning and gasping. I work her there, licking and sucking her clit, plunging one finger, then two, then three inside of her. On the third she makes the most delicious sound I’ve heard from her lips yet.
I glance up to see her head thrown back, eyes closed, a subtle smile pulled across her lips. The stress and fear from the day, of what’s happened and what’s to come, everything that’s kept her up all night, melts off her. She’s here, with me, soaking in her pleasure and nothing else.
Her fingers twine into my hair, pulling tighter and tighter as she gets closer to her release. I bring my other hand close to her lips, presenting one finger. “Get it good and wet,” I tell her, and she’s on it in an instant, sucking hard, running her tongue up and down, reminding me of how she felt with her lips around my cock. Her cheeks pull tight as she gathers more saliva before releasing it, dripping wet all the way to the knuckle.
I pick up the pace with my fingers inside her and tongue at her clit as I bring my finger down to circle around her back entrance. She clenches around my three fingers, tightening up at the first contact with the other, then relaxes, letting me sink the finger in, slowly one knuckle at a time. The sounds she makes are a damn symphony. It only takes a few thrusts with that added stimulation to bring her to completion, and I lick up every drop of wetness as she rides it out.
I sit up, resting my hands on her inner thighs and watch as a contented smile pulls her lips into a wide curve. “That worked,” she whispers. “There isn’t a thought in my head.”
§
Leaving Devon this morning was a behemoth task, but she needs my help more than she needs my physical presence today. I went into Turbine to get coffee and review the plans for the Peach Ridge cabinets, having learned my lesson about getting coffee any other place in town. The plans are pristine, as usual, and the design is simple and modern. I should be able to knock them out quickly, but I have one stop to make first before I pick up the lumber.
“I don’t think she’s available,” the woman working the front desk at Trina Boatswain’s office says, looking over her shoulder to where Trina is very clearly sitting in her office.
“I’m going back anyway,” I say, walking past her.
“Well, that’s not really how it— Um, she told me not to let—” she calls after me, sounding very concerned.
“I’ll tell her you did your best to keep me out,” I say, walking through the office. At least eight or ten employees work in one main room at individual desks, and they all turn to watch me as I walk by and push open Trina’s door.
“Rhett,” she coos, “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I didn’t catch her name, but the woman at the front desk did her best to protect your schedule.”