Chapter 18

After lunch, she helped me back inside, settling me into my recliner.

“I need to take care of something,” she said, her voice lower now, more intimate.

I arched a brow, intrigued. “Oh?”

She leaned down, her lips brushing against my ear. “I took care of your needs in the shower last night ... but now, it’s my turn.”

Heat coiled low in my stomach at her words, my breath catching as she took a step back. Her dark eyes never left mine as she slowly reached for the hem of her top, lifting it inch by inch, revealing smooth, golden skin.

“Do you know how much it turns me on when you look at me like that?” she murmured, letting the fabric slip from her fingers. Her breasts, full and perfect, were bared to me, her nipples tightening under my heated gaze.

I swallowed hard, my voice rough. “Show me.”

She smirked, her fingers trailing down her stomach, teasing the waistband of her shorts before pushing them down, leaving her completely bare. She let her hands roam over her body, her touch slow and deliberate, her breaths growing heavier as she aroused herself under my watchful gaze.

I shifted slightly in my chair, my arousal pressing uncomfortably against my sweatpants. “Touch yourself,” I ordered, my voice thick with desire.

Her fingers slid between her thighs, and she let out a soft moan. “Like this?” she teased.

“Exactly like that,” I said, my eyes locked on her movements. “But slower. Make it last.”

She obeyed, her head falling back as pleasure took hold. She spoke between breathless gasps, telling me how good it felt, how much she wanted me to be the one touching her. My own restraint was fraying, my fists clenching as I fought the urge to pull her onto my lap.

Her moans grew more desperate, her body trembling as she neared the edge. “John ... say my name,” she pleaded.

“Monique,” I growled, my voice dark with need. “Come for me.”

With a cry, she shattered, her body arching as pleasure consumed her. The sight of her unraveling, of her surrendering so completely to my voice, left me aching with need.

Still catching her breath, she pushed herself up onto her knees and crawled toward me, her eyes smoldering. “Your turn,” she whispered, reaching for me.

This time, she didn’t use her mouth. Her hand wrapped around me, slow and teasing, her strokes agonizingly perfect. She held my gaze the entire time, watching as pleasure built within me, feeding off my reactions.

“Come for me, John,” she whispered, mirroring my earlier command.

And I did—my body tensing, my breath catching as pleasure crashed over me. She stroked me through it, her touch gentle as I shuddered beneath her hand.

As I came down from the high, she brought her fingers to her lips, licking away the evidence of my release before rising to fetch a warm cloth.

When she returned, she cleaned me with careful, loving strokes, then stood before me, still naked, stretching languidly.

“I think you need a nap,” she said, smirking.

I let out a soft chuckle. “You wear me out, woman.”

She leaned down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll shower while you rest, then do some more schoolwork.”

With her help, I made it back to bed. As I settled in, I watched her walk away, the sway of her hips hypnotic.

Monique was more than just someone in my life now—she was part of it. And as I drifted to sleep, I knew one thing for certain.

I never wanted to wake up without her again.