The Truce by Becca Steele

Author:Becca Steele
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-28T16:00:00+00:00

We took turns in the shower, then curled up in Luke’s bed. I was wearing one of his T-shirts, a soft cotton Southwark University one, and nothing else.

“You look so good in my clothes. I think you need to wear them all the time,” he proclaimed, giving me a boyish grin, his freshly washed hair sticking up in all directions.

“Well, you look good in just those boxers.” I eyed his body in blatant appreciation, and he flexed his pecs playfully, making me laugh. Pushing him back on the bed, I straddled him, kissing across his chest.

His hands came up to my sides, sliding under my clothing.

“So sexy,” he murmured, almost to himself. He lifted me and laid me on my back, then slid up the T-shirt. I watched his eyes darken, and he licked his lips.

“I believe I promised to make you come with my mouth.”

I shivered at his low, throaty tone.

His hand came up to cup my breast, my nipple pebbling beneath his touch. This was so different from our fast, urgent sex earlier. Every movement he made was unhurried, relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, gently tugging on it with his teeth, sending a shot of heat straight through me. I whimpered, arching my hips off the bed, wanting him to touch my throbbing clit.

“Patience,” he whispered. He licked my nipple, then blew on it, making goosebumps erupt over my skin. He repeated the same motions with the other breast, then trailed his hand lightly down my stomach, running it down one leg, then the other, then back up my inner thighs.

“Touch me,” I begged.

“Not yet.” His grin was devious. He followed the same path his hands had taken with his mouth. I squirmed as his stubble scraped my inner thigh, needing to feel his mouth on me.

He raised his head. “Not yet,” he said again. He crawled up my body and settled between my legs, pulling my bottom lip into his mouth and nipping it. I moaned, and he kissed me, slowly, leisurely, tongue rolling against mine. I gripped his neck and pulled him closer, threading my fingers through his hair. He responded by deepening the kiss. I tried to pull his hips down to mine so I could feel the friction between us, but he broke our kiss.

“So impatient,” he drawled, sitting back.

“Luke, please.” I begged again.

He nudged my legs apart and slid one finger up my slit, circling my clit. I whimpered.

“More, I need more.”

“So wet for me,” he rasped, slipping his finger inside me.

“More.”

Another finger joined the first, and he slid them in and out of me, tortuously slowly.

“More.”

Finally, finally he put his head down between my legs, running his tongue over my slit and circling my clit expertly. I arched up off the bed.

“Yes. Yes. Don’t stop.” My voice was almost incoherent.

My eyes rolled back in my head, the feel of his mouth, his tongue, his fingers sending my body into overdrive.

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