“Tell me?” I echo, letting my other hand join it.
Fuck. Fuck. She leans back against the cabinet, toys with one finger under a black bra strap.
“I went to your house today,” she says. “I took the scrapbook over to see if you’d take me back.”
My brain is currently lacking for blood, so that takes me a minute to figure out.
“Wearing this,” I say.
“In case the scrapbook didn’t work,” he says, softly.
I put my hand over hers, twist a finger around the same strap.
“There’s no possible world where I don’t take you back,” I tell her, pulling it over her shoulder. “And God help me, there’s no possible world where wearing this doesn’t also work.”
I tug the strap under her nipple pops out.
“Good to know,” she murmurs, and then I lick it, swirl my tongue around it, listen to Delilah’s moan above me as it hardens in my mouth and I can tease it with my teeth. I do the same to the other nipple and she tightens her hand in my hair, her bare heels against my back.
Finally, she brings her mouth to mine again, pressing forward. Her skin is warm and electric against mine and I grab her hips, pull her against me. She makes a noise into my mouth and I can feel her smile. I pull her even closer, my fingers digging into denim, and then she’s off the counter.
Unbuttoning her jeans, pushing them over her hips, finally kicking them off.
The panties match: black and small, the same lace as her bra. When I slide my hand between her legs, she makes a noise and rolls her hips, the fabric already damp. She palms my cock, hard, and I push my fingers under the fabric, play with her clit until her breathing goes erratic and she moans, one foot propped against the lower cabinets.
When I stop, she sighs in disappointment as I pull her away from the counter.
“Upstairs,” I tell her. “Now.”
I add in a hard ass-smack for good measure, and it’s very satisfying.
“Or what?” she teases. Her fingers find my zipper.
“Or I have to fuck you on the counter, and I just did that last weekend,” I tease.
“I liked it last weekend,” she teases back. The zipper is down and she undoes the button and grabs my cock and I stop breathing for a moment.
“I know,” I manage to get out. “Most of Snowpeak, West Virginia knows.”
She squeezes me again, and I grab her ass with both hands because I can.
“I like your outfit and I’d really like to watch you walk up the stairs in front of me, how’s that?” I say. “Soft, flat surfaces are nice to fuck on sometimes. Do you want more reasons to go get on your bed, or will those suffice?”
She kisses me, lets my erection go, fixes her bra so her nipples are hidden again.
“I guess those are good enough,” she teases, and walks away.
Walk isn’t the right word. She knows I’m watching her and Delilah sashays up the stairs, hips swinging from side to side, and I feel like I’m being hypnotized. Before she gets to the second floor I’ve already grabbed one garter, the bright red bow winking between my fingers, my thumb in the crease between her thigh and her ass.
At the top of the stairs I hook a thumb under the lace panties, pull them off, leave them there. Her bra stays in the doorway to her bedroom and before I toss her onto the bed I pull her to me again, her back to my chest, run my hands over her body as she sighs. Melts.
I push my fingers between her legs again and they slide through wetness as she leans her head back against my shoulder, eyes closed, lips parted. Hips rolling back against me, the pressure both delicious and exquisite torture.
Then I spin her, kiss her, and toss her onto the bed, and she laughs in surprise.
“Don’t tell me you weren’t expecting that,” I say.
She sits up, forward, grabs the waistband of my undone pants and pulls me toward her.
“I didn’t know you wanted a bed so I could be a projectile,” she says, and then I’m on my knees, between her legs. My cock springs free and I kick my jeans off.
“Projectile?” I say, voice going low as I grab her again, shove her further onto the bed, the bottoms of her thighs resting on the tops of mine. “I just like tossing you around sometimes.”
I kiss her deep, pinch a nipple.
“You’re bouncy and you make good noises,” I tease as she wraps a hand around my cock again.
Then, I groan. She squeezes, strokes me from root to tip. The head of my cock bumps against the soft, smooth skin of her inner thigh and I move my hands between her legs again. Toy with her clit even as I thrust into her hand, helpless.
Finally slide my fingers inside her tight, slick entrance and circle her clit with my thumb and Delilah moans. She lifts her hips, one leg around my back now, strokes me and pushes my fingers deeper inside her all at once.
I add another finger and move them against the front wall of her channel, in time my thumb on her clit. She moans again, her head to the side, fist still around my cock. I push deeper, burying my fingers in her up to my knuckle and I know I’ve got the right spot when her back arches so hard her whole body comes off the bed.
I stop before she comes, take my fingers out of her. Move over her and give her a long, deep kiss as she strokes me one more time and then guides me to her entrance.
“I love you,” I murmur.
“I love you too,” she says, eyes wide, her other hand stroking my cheek.
Then, suddenly, her eyes light up and she grins. Delilah twists under me and before I know it I’m on my back.
I let out a surprised “Oh,” and then she’s holding me down, throwing her leg over me, straddling my hips, cock crushed between us.
She’s laughing, pressing her body against mine. She grabs my wrists and holds them over my head as I push back against her in a token struggle.
“Good noise,” she says. Kisses me, biting my lip. Rolls her hips against my cock until I groan into her mouth and she laces our fingers together, pushes me back harder.
“Ride my cock and I’ll make more,” I tell her.
“For such a nice mouth, it sure is dirty,” she teases, and she lets my hands go. Pushes herself upright, and I grab her thighs by the garters, push them apart, squeeze until my fingers sink in.
“Dirty?” I ask, grinning. Squeezing, pushing as she reaches behind her and grabs me again. “Dirty is telling you that I want you to ride my big fat cock with your wet pussy until you come so hard your eyes rolls and your legs shake.”
She lifts on her knees, one hand on my chest, her whole glorious body stretched above me. I grab the base of my cock, hold it steady, and she sinks onto it.
This is when she yields to me. Her body yields, slowly, her tightness inviting, enveloping. She yields skin-to-skin with nothing between us, her eyes sliding shut, a sigh escaping her lips as she gives herself over to me.
And this is how I know she’s enough because this is what I crave, what I dream about at night: Delilah soft and vulnerable like this, stripped down to her core. Delilah with her freckles and her inked skin and her untameable hair. Delilah who burns so bright it blinds me sometimes.
I bottom out in her and she groans. Leans forward, both hands anchored on my chest, pushes her hips back. My fingers are digging into her thighs so hard she might have bruises later, but I don’t think either of us minds.