Page 88 of Match Me if You Can

In answer, I reach for the hem of my tank top and tear it over my head.

“You’re sure,” he rasps, staring at my breasts…and then he uses more than his eyes. He cups one in his hand then bends, mouth dragging along my collarbone, down, down⁠—

“Ace,” I moan, head falling back as he sucks my nipple, working it with his lips and teeth and tongue, sending pleasure spiraling through every cell in my body.

“I bet you’re wet for me,” he murmurs, hand snaking down as his mouth makes its way to my other nipple.

“You’d—ah—bet right.”

He grins at me wolfishly. “Let’s just see, yeah?”

His hand slips under the waistband of my pajamas⁠—

And we both groan.

“Told you,” I whisper.

He strokes a finger through the seam of my pussy. “I think I told you.”

“Either”—I gasp as he finds my clit on the first try (and he so wasn’t lying when he said he has serious skills)—“way,” I finish, hips jerking as he circles lightly.

Then not so lightly when I arch my pelvis, silently asking for more.

“I like that,” he murmurs, head dropping, lips on my skin, his words the gentlest caress. “I like this.” He strokes lower, slips a finger inside and I moan, hips jerking again, wanting him deeper, needing⁠—

He uses his thumb on my clit at the same time he sucks a nipple deep.

That.

I need that.

“Ace,” I whisper, my hands in his hair, holding him against me, my hips rocking as I ride his hand, my breaths catching and coming in rapid succession. “Oh, my God. It’s—” I shake my head on the pillow, feeling my orgasm so damned close but still just out of reach.

Until he uses his teeth.

The sharp sting on my nipple has everything tightening in me, fixating on the pleasure inside me, wound taut, a spring ready to explode upward.

And then it’s there.

In every cell, every muscle, every part of me big and small, rolling out like a pulsing wave of goodness that I can drown in over and over again, so intense I swear I black out.

I hear him growl, hear him say, “Fucking love that,” and my body spasms anew, little bursts of pleasure sparking inside me where I’m clutching his finger tightly, on my clit, his thumb still there, but gently stroking now, on my nipple, his tongue giving it a lazy lick.

I manage to peel open my lids, and what I see on his face has me immediately reaching for the waistband of his shorts.

“Off,” I order as the heat of his gaze scorches me.

Thankfully, he doesn’t give me sass, just pulls his hand out of my underwear, whips them and my pajama shorts off, tossing them to the side before shoving his shorts down.

“Oh,” I whisper.

“Touch me,” he orders. Or maybe begs.

Either way, I’m right there with him.

I reach between us and am just curling my fingers around his gorgeous cock when there’s a knock at the door.

We both go still.