Mouth down. Pussy and ass to go.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Slater
Kylie’s head lifts from my sweat-slicked chest to peer into my eyes. Hers are beaming with lust, her lips are swollen, and her hair looks like a bird is trying to nest in it, but she’s still incredibly beautiful. She looks so quaint, I almost have a heart attack when she asks, “Do you want kids?”
The idea of being a father freaks me the fuck out—so much, if it were any other girl asking, I’d be halfway out the door by now, running so fast she’d never catch me. The only reason my naked ass remains in my bed is because the woman who asked often has me craving things I never knew I wanted, so perhaps one day I may add rugrats into the mix. One day far farfaraway. I’ve just got Kylie back, so I plan to hog her time for at least the next three years. I don’t want to share her just yet—not even with a mini version of myself.
When Kylie arches her brow, prompting me to answer her, I drag my hand over my dreads. “Maybe one day.”
I thought I expressed my statement with positivity, but Kylie’s expression reveals I desperately need acting classes. Tears cloud her eyes as her pupils widen. Anyone would swear I told her I’ve been sterilized for years with how oddly she’s reacting.
“You want kids that bad?”
Her face screws up as she struggles to hold back her tears. “No. It’s not what I want. It’s—”
Her confession is cut off when I catch sight of the alarm clock on the bedside table.We’re late!
“Can we continue our conversation later? I’ve got somewhere really important to be.”
Kylie muffles a yawn with her hand before snuggling into her pillow with a nod.
“We’vegot somewhere important to be,” I correct.
When I stoop down to lift her out of bed, her beautiful naked body makes me hesitant in my pursuit. We only finished fucking an hour ago, but my cock is acting as if he hasn’t sought release three times already today.
After reminding myself for the hundredth time this week that she isn’t going anywhere, so I have plenty of time to explore her body later, I hand her the dress she was wearing last night, urging her to hurry up.
Her brows shoot into her hairline. “I can’t wear a clubbing dress during the day.”
Desperate to continue the plans I organized days ago, I place the shirt I was wearing earlier over Kylie’s head before pulling her hair out of the collar. It barely covers the generous curves of her backside, but it’ll stop any man who may be in her room with Melanie from seeing a piece of her only I’ve touched.
When I guide her to the interconnecting door between our rooms, she winces with every step we take. I take a mental note to be a little gentler with her tonight. I want her to feel me for days after we’ve fucked, but I hate the idea of her being inactualpain. I took care of her after claiming her like no one else has, but she’s still feeling sore all over. Some kinks can’t be rubbed out no matter how hard you try. Believe me, I tried to fake it for years. Gave me nothing but disappointment.
After unlocking the door between our rooms, I plant a peck on Kylie’s kiss-swollen lips, then gently nudge her into her room. “You have ten minutes to get ready.”
“For?” She stands in the doorway, watching me curiously.
The confusion on her face clears when I ask, “Do you want to cross off number seventy?”
Her eyes flicker as she recalls what item number seventy is on her bucket list. I can tell the exact moment recognition dawns as she smiles the most dazzling grin. With a nod, she dashes into the main bedroom of her suite, cringing.
By the time I’ve replaced my shirt and jeans with clean ones, brushed my teeth, and gathered our tickets Emily got for me yesterday, Kylie is back leaning against the door of her room, looking as ravishing as ever.
As our elevator car descends to the lobby, her excitement is as obvious as the panic on her face when I notched the first inch of my cock into her ass. It’s a flighty expression that can only truly be understood by the words it’s delivered with. “I’m so excited, I could pee my pants.”
Thank fuck, the remarks she vocalizes in the bedroom are ten times dirtier than that, and one hundred percent hotter. Anal sex isn’t easy in general, let alone with a virginal, untouched hole, but Kylie handled it like a pro. She trusted me with her body, and her trust was reciprocated tenfold. Our exchange was blistering, and I can’t wait for round two.
I feel the excitement thrumming through Kylie’s body when I interlock our hands just as the elevator arrives at the lobby. When we exit, I spot Hawke standing to the side, snarling at me since we’re late. I don’t usually take a bodyguard with me when I go out, but we’re about to enter the twilight hours, and we’re walking, so additional protection isn’t just smart. It’s necessary.
While shadowing Hawke outside, I lower a knitted beanie over my head before tucking my dreads inside, hoping the loss of my distinctive trademark will make me less obvious to my fans.
Hawke opens the usually locked side entrance door of the hotel before nudging his head to the alleyway. “I’ll stay a few feet behind you, but if you become concerned about anyone, signal, then I’ll move in.”
I jerk up my chin, advising I understand his instructions before re-clasping Kylie’s hand in mine. When we exit the hotel, we’re blinded by paparazzi lights. I’m so unprepared, I don’t have time to shelter my eyes, meaning I can’t see two fucking feet in front of me. I’m pissed as fuck but praying the paps annoying me are men of their words when they pledge, “Give us a handful of useable shots, then we’ll leave you alone.”
I tug Kylie into my side before raising my eyes in the direction the voices came from. “Smile, baby. If they get a decent photo, they may leave us alone.”
