Page 58 of Sex Positive

“Gorgeous,” he breathes when she’s bare in front of him for the first time. His gaze never leaves her center as his palms slide down her hips, over her thighs, wrapping around her ankles. Spreading her wider, his lips caress her calf before he presses his mouth with aching sensuality to the inside of her knee. He lies on his stomach between her legs, then lifts his gaze and watches her with something akin to reverence.

“Teach me.” He kisses her other knee, and she shivers. “I know how much you love telling people what to do.”

Charlie releases a breathless, shocked laugh. She trembles as he stares at her core, transfixed. She opens her mouth to speak, but her words fail when he slips a finger through her folds.

“You’re already so wet,” he growls. “Is this for me?”

She arches her hips forward, trying to find more pressure, more friction, justmore. “Yes.”

Because even if she’s annoyed at how smug he sounds, why deny it?

Of course it’s for him. It’s all for him.

“How do you like to come?” Shefeelshis breath on her clit, has to bite back a plea for him to put his mouth there. But more than anything, she wants to sob with relief. Not because he’s finally—finally—touching her, but…

He’sasking. And the way he watches her like whatever she says will give him eternal life is so different from Nash and his dismissal of what turns her on. What gets her off.

“From—my clit,” she breathes.

Her lashes flutter, panting when he inserts only the tip of his finger before pulling out.

His eyes are nearly black with desire. “Ah, the elusive clitoris,” he hums, pressing his cheek against her thigh, holding her gaze as he brushes his lips along the sensitive skin.

“Most—most people with vaginas can’t come from—from penetration alone,” she whispers, and he watches her like he’s a drowning man, and she’s the only person within miles who can save him.

“And do you like it fast? Slow?” Another kiss on her inner knee, his finger a barely-there presence in her folds.

She bites her lip, stifling a needy whine. “Slow at—at first,” she pants. “And then—then faster. With light to—to medium pressure.”

“Can you give me a demonstration?”

Heat crawls up her neck and across her face. Moving her fingers to her clit, she shudders at the first brush, at how slick she is, how aroused she is in front of him. Her mouth drops open to let out a quiet whine, and she drops her head back against the pillows, showing him exactly how she touches herself when she’s alone.

“Eyes on me,” he commands.

She locks her gaze on his heavy-lidded eyes. She’s never felt so turned on in her life.

“So beautiful.” His eyes drift to her fingers, a look of open wonder and awe crossing his handsome face. She forces herself not to feel embarrassed, not to look away, watching his lips curl with satisfaction.

His hands slide up her thighs like he’s memorizing every inch of her body, his eyes fixed on her fingers. She releases another whine when his lips skim the inner part of her thigh before his fingers cover hers.

“Can I try?”

She nearly stops breathing. His hands—those glorious, capable hands—gently remove hers, and she can’t look away from his face as he slips one finger and then another inside her.

“Fuck,” she groans, her hips bucking as he brushes her clit with his thumb.

“You’ll be sure to tell me if I’m doing it wrong?” That smug smile returns, his thumb and forefinger sliding over her.

She nods vigorously, fisting his duvet. “Yes—oh.” Her mouth pops open, and she writhes against his fingers, panting, wanting, so worked up she can’t think. He continues with the same pace and pressure, languid and fully in control even as she unravels. “Quinn, I’m—”

His touch is so much better than she ever imagined, his fingers deft and articulate, spelling out words of pleasure inside her.

He nips her thigh. “I love seeing you come undone like this.”

She is a woman possessed, bucking against his hand.

“Wes,” she gasps without thinking, because what are thoughts when he’s touching her?