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With shaking hands, tongue still swiping, I force her legs apart, holding them there when she makes it clear she can’t control them.
“So fucking sweet,” I tell her in praise, but also because I know she needs to hear when she’s doing something right, even if that’s quivering against my mouth and attempting to rotate her hips. “Gonna eat this pussy for hours.”
“Oh God,” she whimpers, her short fingernails scraping my scalp, leaving behind the most delicious sting. “It’s… I’m going to…”
I know exactly what’s going to happen. Her pussy is literally fluttering against my mouth, threatening detonation by the time the breathy words leave her mouth, and I’m fucking living for it right now.
I want to command her orgasm, use my words to send her over the edge, but the grip she has on my head is otherworldly. So instead, I use my mouth, my tongue, and my teeth to take her there. She doesn’t scream when she comes. The only sounds she makes is a squeak, and I take full responsibility for her inability to shout my name. It’s not that she doesn’t want to; it’s because she can’t. The orgasm is taking too much from her. Her body is only able to focus on the tiny stretch of real estate that’s clenched around my probing tongue.
When her body settles enough and her fingers slide from my hair to flop on the bed in exhaustion, I go for her again. The second orgasm takes mere moments to make her seize all over again, and I only stop myself from forcing a third one from her because she begs me not to.Chapter 24Whitney
“I’m too heavy,” I complain, trying to garner the strength to push off of Wren’s chest.
His only response is a low grumble and his arm tightening around my back.
Smiling against his naked chest, I listen to the rhythmic thrum of his heart. He’s wearing boxers, and I’m in his t-shirt, the one he insisted I wear after our shower. Sheets are tangled around our legs because even an hour later, we were both overheated. I’m certain it had more to do with the thorough cleaning we gave each other in the shower rather than the actual temperature in the room.
Simon, my traitorous cat, is curled up on the other side of Wren, purring like he’s the one who rescued him and has been seeing to his every whim for the last six months.
“We need to talk,” rumbles beneath my ear, but Wren, having predicted my flight response, holds me tighter before I can pull away. “You’re fine where you are.”
“I’m not comfort—”
“It’s not going to be a comfortable conversation, but it has to be done. I didn’t chase your terrified ass to a different state to let things just fester. You took off from the wedding. I thought it was because I was moving too fast, that meeting Nana was too so—”
“It wasn’t,” I assure him.
“But then when I got to your apartment and found the door kicked in—”
I freeze, doing my best to concentrate on the way his fingers are teasing the skin on my thigh instead of freaking out now knowing that Jones was after me. I’d managed to almost convince myself that I was overreacting, but his words confirm my worst fears. I was in danger, and my life in St. Louis is over. There’s no way I can return to a city I love with that threat looming over me.
“I need you to go back,” he whispers, lips pressing to the top of my head.
“I can’t,” I argue softly, tears burning my eyes with having him here like this and knowing it can’t last.
“Stephen Jones is a piece of shit, but he’s never going to get the chance to hurt you.”
My head snaps up, the strength of his hold on me not enough any longer.
“What?”
My eyes search his, waiting for the punchline, waiting for something sinister to spew from his mouth, like the terrifying thought that he’s working with Jones to spill from his perfect fucking mouth.
He’s grabbing my hand, pressing my fingers to his lips before I can even deduce that I’m shaking like a leaf.
“Have you heard of Blackbridge Security?” he asks against the tips of my fingers.
I nod because I have, but I’m not exactly familiar with the company. “I have.”
“As you know, I work for Deacon Black. When you went missing, I had to find you. I couldn’t get shit from your computer. Good sweep by the way.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “But I was able to get into your phone.”
I breathe deep through my nose, trying not to overreact with his confession. I bolted from that building, taking only the bare necessities, and even though the feelings are threatening, I can appreciate that I don’t have any right to be angry that he was concerned enough to figure out what was going on.
