Eight Ways to Ecstasy Read Free Page A

hands.
    But this was better. This was insane.
    She was breathless, eyes clenched tight, hands curled in shaking fists. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
    “Hell yes, we are.”
    And it was so visceral—so obscene. Spreading her with his thumbs, he licked inside and all around, cupped her thighs as those clever hands of his rose, pushing her legs up and apart. One clothed shoulder came to meet the underside of her knee, and she had to look.
    The vision had her on the edge of coming again right then and there.
    Because it was almost too much. Shirt and vest still on, basically all his clothes still on. Hell, he even had his watch affixed to his wrist. And his hair was all tousled, dark and messy, his bright eyes fixed on her, her thigh draped over his shoulder.
    He finally pressed a finger inside, flicked his tongue fast and strong against her clit, right where she liked it, because of course he would remember that, of course he still knew—
    Her body shattered with a whole different kind of strength this time, practically pulling her inside out. His moans against her sex were another layer to the symphony crescendoing through her, were a match for her own, and she had to bite down on his name. It wanted so badly to be let out.
    In that moment, screaming and undone before him, she wanted so badly to let him in.
    But no. No.
    She lowered her hand to push him away, oversensitive and done, but then he raised his head from between her legs, eyes fierce, and he practically growled, “Leave them where they are.”
    It made her freeze in her tracks.
    His eyes flashed with need. “I am so fucking far from being finished with you.”
    And he drove back in, thick fingers filling her, curling up and pressing just the right side of too hard to that spot inside. With warm, wet strokes of his tongue, he coaxed her straight back up to the high plateau of arousal she hadn’t imagined she’d be able to climb again so quickly after coming twice already. But there she was, the twitchiness of post-climax giving over beneath the heat of his mouth, that hunger and that rush for more returning.
    “Oh my God.” She shook her head back and forth, dropping her hand to her forehead where she was flushed and feverish. Sweat pooled at her lower back, and her nerves were screaming at her, her throat parched.
    “Give it up again, beautiful.”
    And she couldn’t—there was no way she could. Except he’d never given her a chance to come down, and so she was still soaring, air beneath her fingertips, and she would fall someday. She had no doubt. But for now…for now she’d take what he was offering, and she wouldn’t look back.
    She arched her throat and closed her eyes, lost to it, ready to fly apart, all her barely recombined pieces tearing at their seams.
    Then his thumb nudged farther back, a grazing touch between her cheeks, and her eyes flew open. “What are you—”
    “Trust me.”
    A steadier pressure, not quite in, not taking this other way to be inside her, but close, uncomfortable in a way that was more than physical. Dirty and weird and nothing she’d ever felt before, and that alone sent another rush of wetness flowing over his tongue, even as she twisted away, because it was too much. It might hurt.
    “Don’t overthink it,” he said against slick flesh, lips brushing her clit with every syllable. “Just let it feel good.”
    “But—” But what if she didn’t like this?
    He shook his head, silencing her with that alone, and her ass gave beneath his slow, steady pressure. She choked on a breath as the very tip of his thumb, wet with her liquid, dipped inside, and there was no question about whether or not she liked it. Illicit fullness, a raw hint of a stretch, painless in the way that it burned right through her, and she loved it. The fingers in her sex thrust harder, and he did something with the point of his tongue.
    And this time, she just about blacked out. The first wave overwhelmed her, made her shudder and