“I’m not going anywhere,” Ethan said quietly, holding her gaze.
“And so he did, and the cat tried to bite him less, which was a work in progress, but alas, aren’t we all.”
“Very true,” he agreed.
“What did you think of the story?”
“Well, I gotta say”—Ethan wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her against him—“I prefer the version where we’re both human.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “That’s fair.”
“But”—he kissed her, soft at first and then deeper—“I appreciate the message.”
Naomi relished the heady press of his perfect mouth. “I guess I should tell stories more often.”
Holding her gaze, Ethan lowered himself to his knees in front of her.
Naomi caught her bottom lip between her teeth as her heartbeat kicked up. He was just that beautiful. Looking at him made her feel lucky. Made her want to paint, despite having never painted a day in her life. It felt like the least she could do. To capture this moment somehow, so that other people could know half the pleasure of it.
He’d been so sure in his movement, the downward trajectory, butshe could read the hesitation in him now—the way he tapped his fingers against his palm and shook his head a little.
“Can I... um... would you mind if I...” For a moment she didn’t know what he wanted, truly couldn’t figure it out because her brain had emulsified into lust lava, but then Ethan traced his bottom lip, the soft, too-pink-for-its-own-good bottom lip with his tongue, leaving his whole mouth wet and shiny, and he tipped his chin toward her and grunted.
“You’re asking if I want you to go down on me?” she said, genuinely surprised. The idea of it, the anticipation of his beard against her tender skin, getting his face all messy... oh man. “I definitely want you to go down on me.”
The confirmation seemed to set something loose in him. He brought his hands to the back of her calves, running them slowly up her legs.
“The cat story really did it for ya, huh?” Naomi said, mostly to cover for the fact that she was terribly close to trembling.
“Please shut up,” he told her pleasantly. His fingers met the hem of her skirt, his thumbs flirting with the material.
She hadn’t been ready before, but now she was nothing but shivery desire, aching, arching.
He pushed her skirt up around her waist, leaning forward to kiss her through her underwear.
“Okay, but I think you should acknowledge the tremendous restraint I’m showing,” she said, breath catching, “in not making a pussy joke right now.”
“Noted.” The wet heat of his breath against her core made her groan.
She loved the tension in his back. The reverence of his grip, fingertips pressed to the fullest part of her ass. The messy eagerness of his mouth as he licked her, once, through the damp fabric.
Naomi threaded her fingers through his silky hair, tugging, directing his movement, urging him on. She’d waited so long that everythingabout this felt like life or death. It wasn’t about wanting him to touch her, to make her come. It was need.
Ethan turned his head against her grip, nipping at the tender skin of her inner thighs. Her golden boy.
She bucked her hips, trying to get his mouth back on her clit. “Just a friendly heads-up that there’s no foreplay needed at this time. Thanks.”
In response, Ethan tightened his grip on her thighs.
“Yeah, well,” he said, voice rough. “I’ve got plans.”
Normally, Naomi would scoff at that. Would take charge. Claim her pleasure. But he’d made her soft, and she found she couldn’t deny him even this. For once, she tried to listen. Tried to stay standing on trembling legs.
“I thought you were gonna be nice to me.” She pouted.
He hooked his thumbs in her underwear and yanked them down to her knees, grinning up at her. “I am.”
The rough scrape of his beard against her bare, wet skin made her gasp as he licked a broad stroke across her slit.