She’s honest

"I—" The admission lodged in my throat, shame and desperation tangling. His tongue darted out to catch the wetness beading at my entrance—just once—before retreating with agonizing leisure. "I need to come," I gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets. "So bad I can't—fuck, I can't think straight." The confession burned worse than his teeth ever had.

James hummed against my inner thigh, the vibration skittering up my nerves. "Remember the suncream?" His lips brushed higher, avoiding the place I throbbed for him. "That fucking turquoise bikini? Two scraps of fabric and you sprawled out on the lounger like a banquet." His teeth nipped the crease of my hip, his chuckle dark when my hips jerked. "Made me rub it in slow—every fucking inch."

His tongue traced the memory up my thigh—the way I'd arched into his palms that afternoon, the way my breath had caught when his thumb strayed too close to my bikini line. "Little tease," he growled now, his breath hot against my damp curls. "And that skirt this morning—riding up when you bent for the milk." The edge of his teeth grazed my clit, too light to relieve the ache. "White lace clinging to this perfect ass."

I whimpered, hips lifting—only for his broad hands to shove me down again. "Stay." The command frayed at the edges as his nostrils flared above my slit. "Feel it now?" His tongue flicked once, sharply, before retreating. "Every fucking time you walked away swinging those hips." The heel of his palm ground against my mound while his lips closed around my clit with sudden, brutal suction. My cry tangled with the wet sounds of his mouth working me—relentless now, no more teasing—each pull dragging me higher until my thighs trembled against his ears.

His fingers replaced his tongue without warning, thrusting deep as his thumb circled my clit in tight, filthy spirals. The angle shifted—deliberate—and I gasped when his knuckles pressed against some perfect, hidden spot inside. "There?" he growled, curling his fingers in that devastating rhythm. My nod was frantic, thighs clamping around his wrist as the pleasure crested violently. James watched—rapt—as my back arched off the mattress, his name breaking in my throat when the orgasm ripped through me with punishing sweetness.