Page 70 of Gatsby's Starlet
I brushed my other hand down her arm, then lower, cupping her breast through the shirt, thumb flicking her nipple until shemoaned softly against my neck. Her hips rocked into my fingers, her pussy clenching as I slid two inside her, curling them to hit that spot that made her gasp.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” I murmured, kissing her temple, then her mouth, tongue sliding deep as she kissed back hungrily, her hand dropping to my lap, palming my hard cock through my pants.
She fumbled with my zipper, freeing my throbbing cock, wrapping her fingers around it, stroking from base to tip, smearing the precum over the head. I groaned into her mouth, pumping my fingers faster inside her dripping pussy, feeling her walls flutter.
But then she pulled back from the kiss, eyes gleaming with mischief as she licked her lips. “My turn,” she whispered, shifting down the bed, her shirt riding up to expose her ass as she knelt between my legs.
She teased me first, dragging her tongue along the underside of my shaft, slow and deliberate, from balls to tip, swirling around the head without sucking, making me buck up toward her mouth. Her hands pinned my thighs lightly, controlling the pace, her breath hot against my skin as she lapped at the slit, tasting my precum with little kitten licks that had me gripping the sheets.
“Shit, baby,” I growled, watching her through half-lidded eyes, her lips finally parting to take just the head inside, sucking gently while her tongue flicked relentlessly. She hollowed her cheeks, bobbing shallow, pulling off with a pop to stroke me wetly, then diving back in to take more, inch by inch, until her nose brushed my groin, throat relaxing around my full length.
She hummed around my cock, the vibration shooting straight to my balls, her pace teasing, deep throating slow, then pulling back to lick and suck the head like a lollipop, edging me closer without letting me tip over. Saliva dripped down my shaft,her fingers cupping my sack, rolling them gently as she worked me over, eyes locked on mine the whole time, full of that raw trust and hunger.
“Need you,” she whispered finally, breaking off with a gasp, her chin slick as she crawled back up, kissing me hard so I could taste myself on her tongue.
I rolled her onto her back gently, settling between her thighs, the shirt rucked up around her waist. My cock nudged her entrance, slick and ready, and I pushed in slow, inch by inch, stretching her tight pussy around me until I was buried deep. She arched, nails digging into my shoulders, a whimper escaping as I bottomed out.
We moved together like that—tender thrusts, deep and unhurried, my hips grinding against her clit with every stroke. I sucked her nipple through the shirt, then shoved the fabric up to latch onto the bare peak, tongue lashing it while she bucked beneath me.
Her pussy clenched hard, milking my cock as she came, crying out my name in a broken sob, her body shaking. I followed seconds later, slamming deep and flooding her with hot cum, pulse after pulse, until we were both spent, slick and sticky.
I pulled out slow, and gathered her close again. She curled into me without hesitation, her breathing evening out, body fully relaxed for the first time since the bar, safe, sated, held.
That’s what this was for her.
And that meant something.
I stared at the ceiling for a while, my arm still around her, my hand resting on her ass, fingers idly tracing the crease where it met her thigh, letting the quiet stretch out, letting the moment sit the way it needed to.
I didn’t have answers yet. Didn’t know what she wasn’t telling me, but I knew this. Whatever it was, it wasn’t touching her here. And as I tightened my arm just slightly around her,keeping her close without waking her, my cock softening against her thigh, I made a quiet decision I didn’t say out loud.
I’d let her have this.
This moment.
This night.
Before I went looking for the truth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE BELL ABOVEthe door chimed soft and familiar,the sound settling into the space the way it always did, gentle, even, and for a second I let myself breathe with it, letting the quiet of the shop wrap around me in a way nothing else had managed to since the night before.
Patina and Pearl had always felt like mine in a way nothing else ever had, every rack, every piece, every carefully placed detail something I’d chosen and understood, and usually that was enough to ground me, enough to take the edge off everything else pressing in.
Today, it wasn’t.
“Coming!” I called automatically, setting aside the dress I’d been adjusting as I stepped out from behind the rack, my hands brushing lightly over the fabric like I could smooth myself out the same way.
And then I saw them.
Lucy came in first, her energy filling the space like it belonged there, bright and curious as her gaze moved over everything at once, already taking it in, already impressed whether she said it out loud or not, and right behind her—Zeynep.
My chest tightened before I could stop it, not because I didn’t know she’d come, Lucy had said they would, but because knowing and seeing were two very different things, and standing there in my shop, in my space, Zeynep felt closer somehow, more real in a way that made everything tied to her harder to ignore.
“Evie,” Lucy said, smiling as she stepped further inside. “I told you we’d show up.”
“You did,” I answered, forcing a small smile as I moved toward them, my voice calm even if my pulse wasn’t. “I’m glad you did.”
