Page 103 of Sex Positive
He builds her higher than before, but this one comes fast. With a cry, she falls, shuddering and writhing, gripping his biceps hard enough to leave marks.
“Gorgeous,” he whispers, dragging his mouth over her shoulder, her collarbone, tracing circles over her hip as her breathing slows. Gripping his messy hair, she pulls his face to meet hers while his fingers twine into her thoroughly tangled curls. Rolling her toward him, Wes tucks her against his chest, and the air around them shifts, molecules rearranging themselves into a new formation, one built on comfort and contentment.
Twenty-Nine
Ten minutes later,Charlie asks, “Was that okay?” Wes’s fingers trace circles over her shoulder while her thoughts race with sudden insecurity. “Did that—Was that good for you?”
He blinks before releasing a puff of laughter, a pleased smile curving his distracting mouth. She feels as if she will expire right here.
He runs a finger down her nose and traces her lips before kissing her.
“Charlie, you don’t even—” He shakes his head. “Yes, it was good for me, you impossible woman.”
He kisses her again, languid and content. She throws one leg over his hip while his palm slides down her spine to curve around her ass. When she runs her fingers through his hair, he moans with pleasure.
God, hishair. She could spend lifetimes running her hands through it.
Breaking their kiss, he rises onto his elbow and begins combing his fingers through her curls. It feels wonderful.
After a minute of comfortable silence, he sits up and leans against the headboard. “Come here.”
Bracketing her between his thighs, her back against his strong, firm chest, he presses his lips to her neck. “That’s better.”
A gentle, rhythmic tugging on her hair begins a moment later.
“If you tangle my hair, I swear I’ll tie you up and shave off allyourhair,” she quips.
His chest rumbles against her spine with laughter. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.” He gives one firm tug before his nimble fingers begin moving through her curls.
“Are you braiding it?”
“Yes.”
“Who taught you that?”
“Emmy,” he replies. “I’m not a complete failure of the opposite sex.”
She smiles. “I never said that.”
“But your tone suggests otherwise.”
“That’s how I speak around you. I’m in a constant state of skepticism.” At another swift tug on her hair, she bites back a smile.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” he quips. “I’m onlymildlyoffended.”
“Do what you must, but I’ll judge the final result.”
His laugh shakes her entire body before they lapse into another silence. Charlie closes her eyes, her body deliciously sore in new places.
Should they talk about what just happened? About what it all means? What do they do now? Is this the start of something? Of everything?
She remains quiet even as her thoughts race, afraid to interrupt the ease between them.
“I’ve wanted to do this for years,” he muses.
“Wind my hair into knots?”
“Tameit,” he teases. His fingers begin kneading the base of her scalp.
