Up to Me by M. Leighton Page A

down my arms and then over to my waist where he pushes them up under the edge of my shirt.  Chills break out down my back.  “You trust me when you turn your mind off, when you just feel.”
    His hands move further up, skating over my ribs to cup my breasts.  His thumbs brush my nipples then he squeezes them through the thin material of my bra.  I catch my breath.
     “See?  You aren’t thinking. You’re just feeling. You’re feeling me.  Right now you trust me.  You know I’d do anything for you, that I’d never hurt you.  You know you’re not like the others.  I know you know that.  And that you want me.  Just like I want you.”
    He’s right.  He’s right about all of it.  And I do want him.  I always have.  In a way it makes no sense, that I’d want him right now considering what might be happening in the next few hours.  But in a way, it makes perfect sense.  If things go wrong, this might be the last time I see Cash, or get to be with him this way.
    That thought brings with it both panic and abandon.  I swallow the words that want to rush out, words about love and devotion, words that have no place in this moment.  They deserve to be spoken when there’s no pressure and no distress.  And that’s not now. 
    But we still have tonight.  So I’ll show him.  I’ll give him everything else I have.
    “Tell me you want me,” he commands softly, his voice a low growl.
    I don’t hesitate.  Reaching up, I drag my fingertip along his perfect lower lip.  “I want you.”
    “Tell me you trust me.”
    “I trust you.”
    He exhales, his warm breath fanning my face.  “Now tell me you want me to touch you.” 
    His hands are still, unmoving over my bra. But I don’t want them to be still.  More than anything, I want for them to move.  “I want you to touch me.”
    His eyes are pure heat, searing mine.  He watches me as he pulls the cups of my bra down.  His palms are rough as they glide over my nipples making them pucker.  He pinches them between his fingers and lava pours into my core. I bite back a moan.
    “Tell me you want me to lick your nipples, to suck them into my mouth.”  His voice is like black velvet.  It slides over my skin like a tangible thing.
    “I want you to lick my nipples.”  I’m already breathless as he pulls my tank over my head.  His eyes are back on mine as he reaches behind me to unhook my bra. 
    “Finish,” he demands, refusing to give me what I want until I spell it out.
    “I want you to suck them into your mouth.”
    Bending his head, Cash flicks one nipple with his tongue then draws it into his hot mouth.  I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him to me.
    He sucks on one, biting it lightly, before he moves to the other to give it the same treatment.  When he lifts his head, there’s fire in his eyes.
    “Tell me to unzip your pants.”
    Even though I can barely speak, I don’t hesitate.  “Unzip my pants.”
    In one quick movement, he flips open the button and unzips my pants.
    “Tell me you want me to put my fingers inside you.”
    His voice is hoarse and his hand is resting just a few inches of where I want it most.  The anticipation of feeling him is almost too much to bear. 
    “I want you to put your fingers inside me.”
    Turning his palm toward my body, he slides his hand into my panties and pushes two long fingers inside me.  My knees go weak and I reach behind me to hold onto the counter top for support. 
    Cash closes his eyes and moans a little.  “Oh my God, you’re so wet.  Do you know what that does to me?”
    I nod.  “Yes.”  I know because I feel it, too.
    “Tell me you want me to taste you.”
    Slowly, he drags his finger in and out of me.  My hips move with him.
    “Taste me.”
    Pulling his hand free from me, he raises his glistening finger and slips it into his mouth.  I’m mesmerized.
    “That’s the best taste in the world,” he says.  “Tell me you want a taste, too.  I want to watch