Georgia’s POV
I gathered the papers scattered in front of us, swept them to the floor without another thought, and turned to face Nick. The mont our eyes t, that knowing smile spread across his lips—dark, satisfied, and wickedly smug.
"Good girl," he murmured, pulling his fingers from inside with a slow, wet sound that made my breath stutter. "You finally accepted that protesting is no use."
I climbed onto his lap, straddling him, the heat between us flaring instantly. I pressed a playful kiss on his nose, whispering against his skin, "Hmm... Let’s just say I agree with your reason for starting our big family plan."
Nick’s grin widened, pure male pride lighting his face. "Good decision," he said, before his hands gripped my waist, lifting my nightdress up and over my head in one swift move. Cool air from the air-conditioning brushed my skin, and then the warmth of his body replaced it as he lay back onto the bed, making giggle softly.
"But..." I said, catching his chin between my fingers before he could dive in again. "Just one round. You already had your fill earlier, rember? And we have a long day tomorrow. Understood?" I tapped my index finger against his lips, feigning sternness even as my pulse raced beneath his gaze.
He nodded obediently, though the smirk that followed said otherwise. "Yes, ma’am," he said before capturing my lips in a kiss that left no room for logic.
It wasn’t gentle—it was hungry, consuming. The kind of kiss that reminded exactly how little control I had once Nick decided to taste . His tongue explored mine, slow but firm, and I lted under him, my fingers clutching his shoulders as a helpless moan escaped .
"Babe..." I gasped between kisses. "Take it slow, please? We already had one earlier—I’m still a little sore. Be gentle"
Nick paused, his lips brushing my jaw as he smiled. "Is that so?" His voice dropped, low and warm, making my stomach flutter. "Then I’ll make sure you’re more than ready this ti."
Before I could respond, he kissed again—slower now, reverent even. His lips moved like he was savoring every inch of , every sigh that left my mouth. When his hand slid between my thighs again, I shivered, my body arching toward him without thought.
It wasn’t just a touch—it was a promise. One that made my whole body tremble in anticipation.
Nick’s hand lingered between my thighs, his thumb tracing lazy circles that made my hips twitch. He didn’t rush, didn’t push—just teased, the pads of his fingers gliding over my sensitive skin as if morizing all over again.
I could feel his breath against my neck, the warmth of it syncing with the slow rhythm of his fingers. "You’re already trembling," he murmured, lips brushing the shell of my ear. "And I haven’t even done anything yet."
"You’re doing enough," I whispered, the words barely leaving my mouth as a sigh slipped out.
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pressed a soft kiss just below my jaw. "Not nearly enough. I want you dripping."
He trailed his mouth down, tasting —my collarbone, the curve of my breast, the sensitive spot just above my nipple. I gasped when his tongue flicked out, making my whole body tighten.
"Nick..." I moaned, fisting the sheets. My body already felt like it was lting, but he was still exploring, still taking his sweet ti.
"Shh," he whispered, lifting his gaze to mine. "I told you I’d make sure you’re ready."
And he did.
His fingers slipped inside again, gentle and unhurried, his movents syncing with the rhythm of his kisses. Each stroke pulled another sound from —softer at first, then breathless, then broken. My hips started eting his hand without even realizing it, chasing the friction he kept pulling away just when it was too much to bear.
"Nick..." I begged, arching against him.
"Patience, love." He smiled against my skin, that maddeningly tender smile that made want to both curse him and never let him stop. "Let enjoy this a little longer."
He withdrew his fingers and pulled my lace underwear, undressing completely. His mouth, his tongue, tracing slow, reverent paths down my stomach, lower and lower until I forgot how to breathe. He licked with soft, precise strokes—long, slow, and devastatingly gentle.
I whimpered when his tongue moved fast against my clit. My hands flew to his hair, but he didn’t let up. Every movent of his tongue sent ripples through my body. My legs quivered, my breath ca in short gasps.
"Nick—oh god—ahh..."
He looked up, his lips glistening, eyes burning with a mix of tenderness and hunger. "Yes, baby?" he asked softly.
I gasped. "Please—don’t stop."
He didn’t. Only this ti, his thumb brushed against my clit in an up and down motion as he slid his tongue inside .
"Oh fuck... ahhh..."
My other hand gripped the bedsheet tighter. The burning, numbing tingling sensation was too much; I felt like I was going to squirt, but not at the sa ti, and my toes were tingling.
"Oh my god! Ahh!" I moaned louder.
He slowed down before sitting in front of as he wiped his mouth. His eyes were fixed on my soaking core. His gaze was heavy on , and the way his lips curved, that satisfied, sinful smile, made my pulse skip.
"There, so wet..." he uttered. "Perfect."
Then he sat up, tugging his sweatpants down in one effortless motion. He looked at with that sa unshakable confidence, his body humming with restrained hunger.
His hardness sprang free, and it was just as if nothing had happened between us earlier. His little devil was hard, big, standing tall and proud, too proud, it’s almost reaching his navel.
I watched him stroke himself a few tis before he parted my legs wider and positioned himself above .
"I promise I’ll be gentle, he said before pushing his length into . Our bodies aligned like they’d always belonged that way — every breath, every heartbeat syncing in rhythm.
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