Page 36 of The Draft

“It’s not a hard answer, Madison. Has a guy ever made you so dripping wet from his mere touch that you couldn’t stop yourself from clenching around his fingers?”

I gulped because I wasn’t expecting Dash to talk like that. The guy who barely liked to talk at all, wanted to whisper dirty things into my ear, and I loved it.

“Madison,” he growled. I felt this burst of confidence as I arched my back because I didn’t want him to stop touching me. He was treating me like any other girl. Not like I was his best friend’s sister. Or that I was a virgin. He was treating me like a regular hookup. Dirty and illicit. Exactly the way I wanted to see Dash. I bit down on my bottom lip, flicking my gaze to his with a challenging glare. “I’m the only one that has ever been able to get me off.”

Was that a white lie since no one else had tried?

“Then let’s see if I can change that.”

With his lips pursed, he let his hands glide under my shirt again. Only this time, they kept pushing the fabric up until I had to raise my arms and shuck it over my head. Dash’s hands rubbed against my sides, warming me up, but I didn’t need it. The heat from his glare was more than enough to keep me warm.

With just a white cotton lace bra on, I felt a little self-conscious. We were definitely teetering into unchartered territory now.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” Dash dropped a kiss to the center of my breasts, and I sucked in a harsh breath. They weren’t huge, and I’d always been a little self-conscious of that fact, but when Dash’s hand smothered them, I felt like a goddess.

His fingers dragged over the fabric, flipping the cup down to expose my nipples. “And I’ve been thinking about doing this for the longest time.” He licked his lips, his mouth on me before I could think. My back arched and I could hardly breathe because, even though I’d thought about what it might feel like to have Dash do this to me, I’d never imagined it quite like this.

My body was shaking, my hips were bucking of their own accord because Dash was flicking his warm tongue across my nipple like it was my clit. After the intense buildup earlier, there was no way I wasn’t going to come from this.

His free hand dropped to my hip as he gently tapered down any movement, which only made the buildup more intense. I was hot, longing to feel him completely against me, but he was hell-bent on lavishing my breasts in attention before anything else could happen.

Leaving a trail of kisses up my body, he kissed me fully when he got to my mouth. “Are you wet for me, Madison?” he asked against my mouth, his body now smothering mine. At some point, my legs had fallen all the way open, making it easy for him to rub his jean-covered crotch against my center.

We might have been fully dressed below, but the friction and his hands were more than enough to get me off if he wanted to.

I gulped. “Yes.”

“Will you come if I keep doing this?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good.” He kissed me one more time before bringing himself back down to my nipples.

Nipping, licking, biting. Nothing was out of bounds when it came to my chest, and with every kiss and scrape, I was getting closer and closer to the precipice.

Right on the edge, and I’d hardly been touched where I needed it most.

I gripped the back of his arms, digging my nails in to try to ease the pleasure slowly simmering to a boiling point. When his tongue flicked across my nipple in just the right way, there was no stopping my climax now.

“Dash!” I cried out, louder than I’d intended, but I couldn’t believe whatwas happening. My hips were bucking wildly, but he held them down with his thigh, letting me ride my orgasm out against it.

Breathing heavily, it took me a second to regain my composure. Unfortunately, when I did, shame replaced any of my euphoria.

Dash wasn’t looking at me, his head was buried between my neck and shoulder, and I was left staring at his ceiling, feeling drained.

My jeans were still on, my panties were wet, and I felt like I needed a long nap to recover from that.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he pushed himself up with his arms. “Did that not feel good?”

“It felt great.”

“Then why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” he asked and looked genuinely curious for the answer.

“I, uh, just wanted to know what it felt like to have you touch me. You know, without jeans and all that stuff in the way.”

“Did you think we were done?” he whispered as he shucked his own shirt off, throwing it across the room. Then he stood from the bed and swiftly removed his jeans. I nearly choked because, wow. I was not prepared to see Dash in just a pair of tight black boxers. Sure, I’d seen him swimming with my brother when we were younger, but in the last two years, he’d bulked up. He was cut to the point that I wanted to count every muscle on his stomach.

My entire body felt like jelly, so when he made his way back to the bed, I let him do his thing and pull my jeans and thong off in one go. I helped him along by shrugging off the straps of my bra and unclasping it. Then, I threw it to the side. What was supposed to happen after that evaded me. I was naked. Did I open my legs wide for him? That seemed a little presumptuous, but did keeping them closed make it seem like I was having second thoughts?