Page 113 of Let's Kiss and Tell

“See,” I breathe out, trying my best to articulate my thoughts. “I told you the dirty talk would help.”

Marsh licks my nipple, causing it to harden even more. I feel like I’m about to explode now that he’s finally touching me. He licks the other and then sucks and I instinctively pull his head in closer. He sucks long and hard and flicks my other nipple while doing it. He seems drunk, like he could get off on this alone, and there’s nothing more arousing to me.

His hands move lower, squeezing my ass, and I immediately want no clothing in between us. My fingers reach to the waist of my shorts and he stops me.

“Wait,” he rasps. “Come here.”

Marsh scoops me up in his arms and then gently places me on the bed. He assures that my head is comfortable on the pillows and then he hovers his body over mine. He gives me a gentle kiss on the lips and then trails more kisses down my neck, between my breasts, and to my belly button. My breath stops when he reaches for my shorts and pulls them down, my now naked body exposed while he’s fully clothed.

His fingers trace around my most sensitive area and it causes me to whimper. “Marsh,” I cry. “Please.”

“Please what?” he says, and I quite literally can’t think of whatto say next because his fingers push inside of me and I see stars. “You like it when I finger you, Lucy?”

“Mhm.” I nod.

He continues to pump inside of me until I can hear how wet I am down there. While I’ve read every book on foreplay, I’m convinced that Marsh now needs to write one. I’m so close to coming but he pulls his fingers out and moves beside me.

“Sit on my face,” he says.

I look at him. “Really?”

“This is all I’ve wanted since the minute I met you, Lucy.”

Marsh adjusts himself on the bed, and I straddle myself on top of him, facing the wall. When I lower myself on his lips, I cannot control the sounds that come out of me. I pull myself up a little higher, but Marsh’s hands grip my waist and bring me back down.

“Suffocate me,” I hear him say.

So, I do.

I grind myself onto his face, feeling his tongue swipe me and then go inside of me. I ride it, going up and down on his tongue until I hear his grunts beneath me. Normally, this position would make me feel a little self-conscious. But when I look down and see Marsh’s head between my thighs, it’s a view I never want to forget. It’s an image I know I’ll be going back to when I need it.

All the curiosities in my mind have been put to rest. Marshall Oakley is amazing at oral.

“Oh my god,Marsh, that feels so fucking good.” I throw my head back and grab the headboard in front of me. I continue to move my hips until I have that feeling. That feeling of euphoria that’s inevitable, and I ride it out until my eyes roll to the back of my head and my legs start shaking. “Sh-shit,” I cry and then roll over onto my back.

The room is filled with the sound of my panting, and I’m still only seeing black.

Marsh wipes a palm over his face. “I could’ve done that all night.”

He crawls over me and gives me a kiss. There’s a slight taste of me on his mouth that leaves me wantingmore.I reach for his erection, palming it, but he stops me.

“What?” I frown.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says.

I almost let out a laugh. “But what about you?”

He lies on his back, his arm behind his head. “I got everything I wanted.”

I’m taken aback. Slowly, it dawns on me that sex has always been transactional for me. While it can be passionate, it’s never been intimate. At least for me. Marsh doesn’t kiss me or touch all the right spots on my body because he wants something in return or because he’s following the motions. Marsh wants to make me feel good, andthat’s enoughfor him.

I stare back at him—his eyes are closed, perfectly content—and I’m shocked.

I could flick the lights off and turn over, but there’s that ember within me that’s now turned into a full-blown flame. I want to give Marsh what he just gave me. I want to hear him say my name. I want to satisfy him.I want him.

I bring my hand to his chest, and he opens his eyes. Gently, I move my hand across his abdomen, feeling every bit of him underneath the cotton fabric of his shirt. Slowly, I lean toward him and give him a kiss. I part his lips with my tongue, and his hand moves to the side of my face, cupping my cheek.

“I’m not done, Marsh,” I whisper and then reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it up over his body.