Page 143 of Never After Us
I grab his wrist, trying to pull him where I want him.He doesn’t budge.
“Alec ...please.”
He raises a brow, wicked and patient.“Please, what?”
My body arches.Pride dissolves.Desire wins.
“Please—use your fingers.”The words tumble out on a desperate exhale.“I need them ...inside me.Please make me come.”
His curse is a low growl.“There she is.”
Then he gives me what I’m begging for.
He slides one thick finger inside my dripping channel, slow but deep, letting me feel every inch of it.My mouth falls open.Before I even finish the sound, he adds a second, stretching me just right, stroking me from the inside with deliberate, devastating intent.
“Fuck, you’re dripping for me,” he rasps, thrusting his fingers as his mouth seals over my clit again.“Come for me, babe.Let me feel you fall apart in my hand.”
The combination—the curl of his fingers, the rhythm of his tongue—makes my body snap tight, pleasure surging through me like a wave I can’t outrun.
“Alec—” I choke out, nails digging into the sheets as everything inside me clamps around him.
“That’s it,” he groans.“Give it to me.”
And I do—coming hard, crying out his name as he works me through every shudder, every aftershock, licking me like he plans to savor every second of it.
ChapterFifty-Nine
Alec
She’s sprawled across the bed, flushed and breathless, chest rising and falling with each shaky inhale.Her thighs are still parted, glistening with the mess I made between them, and she’s watching me like she wants more—like I haven’t even scratched the surface of what she needs.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and crawl up over her, kissing her belly, her ribs, her throat.
“You good?”I murmur against her skin, even though I already know the answer.
She nods, pupils blown wide, lips parted.“More.Need more.”
Fuck.
The word burns straight through me, settling low and hot.
“Need you inside me,” she whispers—no, begs—voice rough and throaty, full of craving that hits me like a punch.“You’re wearing too many clothes.”
I sit back on my knees, breath thick in my lungs as I strip my shirt off in one smooth pull.Her gaze drops instantly—hungry, transfixed—tracking every inch of bare skin I reveal.Her hands twitch, like she’s fighting the urge to reach for me, to trace the lines of muscle and ink and want.
But she doesn’t.Not yet.
I make her wait.
I rise from the bed slowly, standing at the edge, towering over her as she watches me like she’s about to devour me whole.
The button of my jeans comes undone with a satisfying pop.Her breath catches.I hold her gaze as I slide the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet room, then shove the denim past my hips.They pool around my ankles with a dull, heavy thud.
Her eyes drop to the bulge in my boxer briefs, her tongue peeking out to wet her bottom lip like it’s instinct.
The air shifts when I hook my thumbs in the waistband and pause.
Teasing her.
