Beg for It(37)

Reese flinched, eyes closing for a minute. Shamefaced. “I know. You told me if I didn’t show, that was it. We were over. I was angry.”

“But you never even tried.” When he didn’t answer, she added, “So, why now? All these years later?”

“Because…I could,” he answered simply, like that was supposed to make sense.

It did, somehow. Years had passed in which it might not have mattered if he’d called or written or hell, even friended her on Connex, because even if he’d come to her with an apology or a declaration of undying love, there’d been no room in her life for him. So here they both were, older and in different places in their lives.

“Look at me,” she told him. When he did, she took his face in both her hands to stare into his eyes the way she’d done so many times when they were young and had never thought what they’d had would disappear. “The problem is, Reese, that all those years ago, I fell in love with you. And I’ve never managed to find a way to fall back out.”

He kissed her then. Soft and slow and sweet and somehow yearning, his arms going around her. He tasted like good red wine. He broke the kiss, their foreheads pressed together, but before she could speak he was kissing her again. Harder this time, breathing a small sigh that turned into a moan when she gently sucked his tongue.

How many times has she dreamed about him, and this? For ages Corinne had imagined what it would be like to taste him again, only to discover now how fickle memory could be. He was even better than she remembered—or maybe she was. Both of them older, with more finesse, or maybe it was the years of longing that flavored this kiss. She didn’t care. He was kissing her, then pulling her into his arms and onto the floor so she straddled him. His cock was hard under her, and his hands went up automatically with her fingers curling around his wrists to settle on the floor beside his head.

Corinne paused, breathing hard. When she rocked the tiniest bit against him, Reese bumped his hips upward and rolled them until he was on top of her. In seconds he’d pinned her wrists to the floor by her ears. She didn’t struggle.

“What do you need, honey?” she whispered.

“You. I need you.”

She arched to press her body to his. “I’m here.”

His kiss moved over her mouth, down her throat to the scooped neck of her shirt. His hands slid up over the soft, loose fabric, pushing it up and over. Her nipples were already hard, poking the lace of her bra, and Reese mouthed each one as his hands cupped her. He moved back to her neck, pressing his open mouth to her sensitive skin. One hand went between her legs. Corinne cried out at the stroking slide of his fingertips against her, the soft material of her leggings no barrier to his questing touch.

Another moment after that, Reese slid his hand beneath the waistband and into her panties. His fingers pushed inside her before she was ready for him, and shocked, she cried out again. This was moving so fast, but there was no way to slow it down. Not with his mouth on hers and his fingers f*cking into her, his thumb pressing her clit. It had been too long for her without anyone’s touch, but most especially his.

Reese moved down her body again, fingers slipping out of her so he could wrestle her leggings over her hips. Her panties came down too, leaving her bare to his lips and tongue. At the first lick, Corinne arched, helpless to keep herself still.

It had always been so good when he did this. Reese worshipped her with his mouth, both hands moving beneath her ass to lift and hold her in place. He eased off right before she came—he’d always been able to tell exactly how close she was. Her low, frustrated cry urged a chuckle out of him, and the soft puff of his laughter against her was a fresh torture that had her writhing.

Settling her back onto the rug, he knelt between her legs and opened the button of his fly with one hand while the other continued to stroke her clit. He paused long enough to shove his jeans down—nothing but bare skin beneath. His cock sprang free. He worked the denim down, using one foot to push his leg free. Then the other. Kneeling again, he tugged his shirt off over his head and tossed it to the side.

Time had sculpted him. He’d always been lean and muscled and still was, though he’d grown bigger. Broader shoulders, bigger arms, his chest and thighs both harder and more rounded. His cock, too, seemed impossibly longer and thicker than she’d remembered even in her fondest recollections.

He stroked it as she watched. “You always liked to watch me do this.”

“I still do.” She pushed up on her elbow to get a better look.

“I want to be inside you,” Reese said. “But I don’t have anything.”

Corinne hesitated. Everything had been force and fire a few minutes ago. They hadn’t used condoms when they’d been together before—she’d been younger and stupid and trusting and on the pill. She couldn’t get pregnant now because she’d had her tubes tied after complications with Tyler, but there were other reasons to be careful. Mesmerized by the slow stroking of his hand, though, she didn’t make a protest at first.

“I’ve been with a lot of women,” he told her.

“Are you trying to make me jealous?”

He shook his head. “No. Just…I didn’t want you to take a risk with me that you weren’t ready for.”

She lay back, thighs parted to give him a good, long look at her treasure. “Touch me, Reese. And touch yourself at the same time.”