Page 28 of Forked (Frenched 2)
By the third, I wasn’t even sure I had legs.
“It feels so good, Nick,” I whimpered. “I don’t think I can stand.”
“Fuck standing.” He yanked my underwear all the way down and I stepped out of them, holding onto his shoulders for balance. As he stood, he reached behind me and hitched my legs up around his hips, my dress riding all the way up to my waist. Our mouths and tongues collided, and I locked my ankles behind him. God, I’d missed this. I’d missed everything about him.
He set me on the edge of the island and I clawed at his white tank, breaking our breathless kiss only to whip the shirt over his head. At first I was so ecstatic to feel his hot skin under my palms, I thought of nothing but running my hands all over his chest and torso and back. Every curve and line on his body begged to be touched, kissed, licked.
Oh yes. There would be licking tonight. I didn’t care if we were just friends, I was going to lick this man up, down, and sideways. I was going to trace his tattoos with my tongue, savor every inch of him, drink every last drop—
And then I remembered.
Taking him by the shoulders, I held him away from me slightly so I could look at his chest, which rose and fell with ragged breaths.
I inhaled sharply.
My name was still there.
My throat tightened. I reached up and ran my fingers over it, black cursive letters on smooth golden skin. Other, unfamiliar tattoos marked his body— animals and symbols and words I’d examine later in delicious detail—but for now, the only one I saw was the one he’d gotten on our ill-fated wedding day. “You still have it.”
“Of course I do.”
“But you could have had it removed, or covered it, or changed it into something else.”
“I’ve never even considered it.”
I swallowed hard, guilt oozing between the layers of desire. I’d transformed my wedding day tattoo into something that symbolized my freedom, rather than be stuck with a permanent reminder of him, of what we’d done. “Why not?”
“Because I like it.” His voice was soft but gruff. “It reminds me of you.”
I had no idea what to say. Damn you, Nick. I just want sex. Don’t make me feel things.
As if he could read my mind, his lips curved into a sexy grin. “Bet you never thought you’d see it again.”
That made me laugh a little. “You’re right about that.” I trailed my fingertips down his muscular abdomen, anxious to stay in the moment. “But I’m glad I did.”
He slid his hands up the insides of my thighs and brushed his thumbs against my pussy, still wet from his mouth. “Me too.”
My breath hitched at his touch, and I reached down to unbuckle his belt, unzip his jeans, and slide my hand inside them.
Yes. This.
I wrapped my fingers around his hot, hard cock, adoring the way his body shuddered as I began working my hand up and down its solid length. This is what I want. This is safe. His mouth reclaimed mine, his hands returning to my head, holding it steady as his tongue stroked between my lips. The tip of his cock grew wet, intensifying the hollow ache inside me.
Widening my knees, I shoved his jeans down at the sides and placed him between my legs, moving the smooth head over my clit.
He pulled back to look at me, a question in his eyes.
I knew what he was asking. “I want this, Nick. I don’t care what I said. I want this. I want you. Now.” I slid both arms around his bare torso and pulled him close, his erection sliding up between my slick folds, pressing against me. “Now,” I whispered against his mouth. “I want you inside me right now.” His cock twitched.
“Fuck.” Suddenly he reached behind me and swept an arm across the island. Everything clattered to the floor—measuring spoons, cups, mixing bowls, our glasses of scotch, sugar and flour spilling across the dark wood floor. Nick didn’t even look down.
Laying me back onto the cool granite, he spread my knees with his hands. My entire body trembled as he licked his way up one inner thigh and down the other. His hands slid under my calves and lifted them to rest on his bare shoulders, and I crossed my ankles behind his neck. Picking up my head, I saw my red shoes behind his dark hair and nearly lost control at the sight of it. He looked me in the eye before lowering his mouth to my pussy, his tongue gliding up the silky seam at my center and tracing soft circles on my clit.
My head fell back against the hard stone, but I barely felt it.
“Mmm, I missed this. You taste just the way I remember.” His words, his breath on my skin, sent a shiver through my body, and I moaned with pleasure as he devoured me.
“I do?” I panted, my lower body tightening and my hands seeking to grab on to something. Finding nothing on the island, I reached for his head, weaving my fingers into his hair. My legs slipped off his shoulders and dangled over his arms.
