Page 75 of Elf-ish

“Let me touch you again,” I beg. The plea rings in my ear like church bells on Christmas morning.

“Here?” she chokes against my lips.

“Here,” I murmur, slipping my hand between her thighs and directly against her center, which is warm and damp through her leggings. She wraps her legs around the backs of mine, drawing me closer to her.

Dragging her back off the washer, I spin her to face the machine and press my throbbing dick against the firmness of her ass. I slip my hand around her waist, dipping it inside her leggings while kissing the side of her neck, sucking at where that pulse beats strongest.

That river of relief rushes through me, turning into wild, relentless rapids, jostling me over the rocks of my feelings for this woman and dipping me into new territory. A territory where she is mine for real.

Last night was not pretend.

Right now isn’t pretend either.

When my fingers meet the slickness of her warm heat, we both sigh.

“Have you been thinking about last night?” I murmur into the skin along her neck. “I have.”

She hums.

“Are you wet thinking about it now?” I continue. “Is it the idea of getting married that gets you drenched?”

She doesn’t answer, but her mouth falls open as I slip a finger into her.

“See yourself in a white dress.” I purr against her neck. “But you aren’t innocent, are you, my angel?”

She slowly shakes her head, whether dismissing the vision of her in a dress or her innocence, I can’t tell. I don’t care. I see her in white, looking radiant and loved with a secret inside her.

“You want your future husband to sneak beneath that dress and finger you like this, don’t you?” I slip a second finger into her, feeling the heat of her channel and the sweetness of her essence coat my fingers.

Her hips buck back, and I lean forward, wedging my hardness more firmly against her, pinning her to a washing machine.

Not the most romantic location to touch her, nor the most secluded, as her family is present up half a flight of stairs. But I cannot resist her.

“Jude,” she whimpers as her knees slightly bang on the metal machine, and I rock forward, trapping my hand inside her panties, my fingers deep within her.

She clenches around my fingers. My hand is damp from the mess I’m making of her. And I am here for it. For her soft cries and her body tightening, and her giving me another sweet orgasm.

“You lit up pretty quickly last night,” I remind her, bringing up my own memories of my tongue skating over her folds and slicing into her precious pussy. My mouth waters again at the musky taste of her that mingled with her sugar and spice scent.

“Let me see how colorful you can be again,” I groan at the side of her throat, because she is light in the darkness. The promise of longer days after winter ends. The bright bulbs glistening on evergreens. The face of an angel after a near-death experience.

When she finally releases, we both exhale, while my dick seeps in my suit pants. Angelica grinds back against me while I dig deeper, more firmly inside her, feeling her hug my fingers in her snug heat and coat my hand in her sticky sweetness.

When I eventually pull them free from her, instantly missing her warmth, I bring my fingers to my lips, sucking them into my mouth. She tilts her head to watch me over her shoulder.

“Last night, you mentioned how re-listening to an audiobook or re-watching a movie always allows for another interpretation.”

I draw my fingers deep within my mouth to suck every drop of her from them. “I know what my second impression is of you on my tongue.” I hum as I release one finger but suck the first one another round. “Still delicious.”

Angelica lowers her head toward the washing machine and chuckles. “You’re so bad, Jude.”

“I thought I was complex.”

Straightening, she turns to face me. “Maybe not as complex as I thought.” Her eyes narrow, forehead furrowing as she watches me suck my finger.

“Well, if you were my wife . . .” I pause and shove my hand in my pocket, adjusting my dick, which is cursing me for getting her off again but not finding my own relief. “The only thing I’d want to watch on repeat is your expression when you come.”

I lean closer to her, forcing her to arch her back a little bit over the washing machine.