Page 90 of Soft Flannel Hank

“But I want you to touch me,” she whined.

She had been wholly in control the first time, pushing him into his chair and owning him with her body. But not tonight. He nipped at her breast before shifting to the other side, using his hand to lift it toward his mouth. “Touch yourself.”

“Hank,” she whined. “I want—“

“Touch yourself,” he said again. “I want you to make yourself come while I play with these. Okay?”

“But I want to come with you.”

“Esther,” he said in an authoritative voice that he hadn’t used since leaving the force, “Touch yourself until you come. Now.”

He paused. Shocked that he’d said that. Completely unsure of where it had come from. He’d never talked to Marnie like that. He’d never had the confidence to. He’d never felt like he could push her back and take control. But as Esther moaned and he heard the slick sounds of her fingers moving feverishly over her clit, he smiled.

Hadn’t Esther pulled Death? Hadn’t she told him about new beginnings? If this was the new beginning, maybe he could try on this new skin for size and give voice to everything he’d always wanted to say, to be.

“I want you to feel how empty you are when you come so that you know what full feels like when I make you come next.”

That sentence had tumbled from his mouth as he lavished his attention on her full, soft breasts. She was desperate. He could feel it in the way her legs shifted restlessly in the blankets, the way she panted, the way she pressed her breast hard against his mouth.

“Hank,” she whined again. “Tell me how you’re going to make me come. Please, tell me how you’re going to make me come.”

“I’m going to fuck you, sweetheart,” he said as he swirled his tongue and nipped. “I’m going to drag you to the side of this bed and I’m going to wrap your legs around me and then I’m going to fuck you softly while I make you come with my thumb on your clit. And then I’m gonna fuck you so hard your teeth chatter.”

Who the fuck are you?His brain was short-circuiting. It was like every single fantasy he’d ever had in his entire life had built and built in his brain until it changed him into a person who could not only make this woman beg for him, but tell her exactly how he was going to do it.

Maybe Esther’s magic was stronger than he thought because he couldn’t think of a single logical reason why a week ago he could barely speak to her and now he was telling her every single thing he wanted to do to her in graphic detail.

And while he’d been talking, Esther had been making tight, rough circles around her clit. He dragged his fingertips down her belly, through the trimmed hair at the top of her cunt. He skated his palm over her frantic fingers and then lower, pressing the tips of two fingers into her clenching center.

She made a choking sound and rubbed faster. Biting gently at her nipple, he slid two fingers into Esther’s body, feeling her muscles fluttering around him.

“Please,” she begged, panting. He drew his fingers out enough that he could feel the rough patch at the front of her channel. He sucked hard on her nipple and pressed his fingers into that spot, dragging them down against the textured space. Esther’s whole body went rigid with the force of her orgasm. Her cunt clutched at his fingers in rhythmic spasms as her body shook and she writhed beneath him.

She stopped rubbing her clit and her hand flew to his wrist. Her nails, wet with her own arousal, dug into his skin. “Please,” she begged again hoarsely as Hank withdrew his hand from her warmth.

He couldn’t see her in the darkness, but he felt her hand tighten around his wrist as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, feeling the slick salt of her on his tongue. He’d enjoyed so many tastes he’d been craving tonight. Cinnamon. Apple. Esther.

“Don’t leave me now, Hank,” she said, her voice watery and insecure in the pitch darkness, and he paused, confused. Until he realized that she thought he was going to do the thing he’d done every time before, which was pull away and put distance between them.

“I’m all yours, Esther,” he said, and pulled her against him tightly as he kissed her.

18

Esther lay panting on the bed. Hank was dragging soft kisses against her throat, her cheeks, her jaw. She felt the scratch of his beard against the tender skin while she tried to get her breath under control. She felt magic pulsing through her and wondered if it would come shooting in bursts out of her fingertips if he touched her like he had before, slow and gentle but with so much purpose and focus that she’d fallen apart in an instant.

He kissed her slowly, sliding his lips and tongue against her own in a liquid rhythm that had her wondering if she could come just from being kissed, just from the slow, firm press of his thigh against her. She rocked her hips and felt her cunt slide against the muscles of his leg.

He gave her a long, seeking kiss and then slid away from her, removing all of his heat and heft. She whined in protest.

“Shhh,” he said in that deep, soft rumble of his.

Esther heard him grab the foil packet of the condom from the nightstand next to her head. Heard it tear. And then the slippery sound of it rolling down his length. She wished she could see him. How many times had she looked at his thighs in his jeans? The thick muscle she had felt shifting under her in the truck, in his recliner. The force with which he’d thrust against her when he held her against the edge of the kitchen counter. She wanted to bite them.

“Hang on,” he said.

She heard a click, and then the darkness was shattered by the sudden light from the lamp on the nightstand. She squinted at first, but after a moment her eyes adjusted and she took him in.

He stood next to the bed, his hard, straining cock sheathed in the condom. She had an unobstructed view of Hank in all of his naked glory now. The tree trunk thighs dusted with dark hair, his sack heavy between them.