I knew the ache she was speaking of.
Moving until I was on my knees between her thighs, I moved my palm to the top of her thigh, then went even farther until my thumb was skimming the seam where her leg met more intimate parts of her body.
When still she didn’t tense up, I moved closer, allowing my thumb to sweep slowly over the lips of her sex.
We both froze for different reasons, then.
Me because she was wet as hell and bare to the touch, and her because I’d just touched something that no other man had touched before.
At least, I assumed no other man had touched it before.
I hoped no other man had touched it before.
She hadn’t told me—at least again anyway—but I just knew.
With her aversion to touch, something that I couldn’t remember either, but could definitely pick up on when anyone got close to her at all in the hospital yesterday, I just knew that she wouldn’t have shared this part of herself with anyone else.
“Holy shit,” she breathed. “You’re so close.”
So close to that ache.
So close to touching her exactly where she needed me to.
I moved my hand until I was cupping her entirely, then squeezed, causing her to jerk against me.
I wasn’t sure what she needed from me. A light touch. A firm touch. So I was learning this all as we moved along, and what I found was confusing.
She didn’t mind any touch, it seemed, and I was moving slowly with the assumption that she was going to freak out at any second.
But maybe she wasn’t.
Maybe I should just move, do what I wanted to do to her, and let her stop me if I did something she didn’t like. Something in which I had a feeling she’d have no problem doing since she was used to speaking her mind.
“Why’d you stop?” she asked, moving her hips up and down, causing my hand to jerk with her.
I grinned and let go of her pussy, my fingers moving again to part her lips and skim the soft, overheated skin between.
She gasped when my finger finally met her clit, her body bowing up in surprise as she jerked at the contact.
“What the fuck?” she inhaled.
I grinned wickedly at her. “What the fuck what?”
I wished I could see her face.
I wanted to watch the expressions cross it as she experienced these things for the first time.
But I also felt like the loss of one of her senses made her focus on the others—touch and sound—as I started to play her body like my instrument.
My fingers swirled around her clit, round and round I went, until she was jerking with each almost-touch.
“You’re killing me,” she whispered, her hands finding my hard thighs as she dug her fingernails into my skin. “I want you to touch it.”
Meaning, she was tired of me playing. She wanted me to do what I was warming her up to do.
I moved my fingers down instead, causing her to curse up a storm, which was incredibly cute coming from the girl that I’d never heard curse before.
“What was all that?” I asked as I slowly teased her entrance with the two fingers that’d been doing the circling.