And I know it’s a bad idea, even when I lean down and glide my mouth against hers. I know it’s a bad idea even as my dick grows hard in my briefs. I know it makes me an awful person,but I also know that I need Ariana Forkerro in a way that I have never needed anything or anyone before her—I need her like I need oxygen, like I need sleep, like I need blood to pump through my veins. I’ve started to need her to fucking function.
Even if it’s just once. I have to know. Ihaveto know.
She slides her hands into my hair and I tug her body to mine, the taste of her mouth welcoming me back to my recklessness. Heaven and hell, this mouth. Sweet, warm, and beautiful, but a direct threat to everything I love in my life. The risk feels worth it when that little moan slips from her body into mine. That sound will play on a loop in my head for the next little while.
I pull away just enough, my mouth still brushing hers. “You left that bathroom without letting me return the favour. That’s not how shit operates with me.”
Her eyes flash. “Can I cash in my IOU now?”
I nod, kissing her again. “Yeah, sweetheart. You better.”
I have felt horrible since then, wondering how I let my head get so fucking scattered that I didn’t make this girl come in one way or another after the most groundbreaking blowjob ever given. It’s time to rectify that so I can sleep soundly tonight. We need to be on an equal playing field.Thatwill bring me some peace.
I guide her backward until her back hits the door of her hotel room.
I give her one last parting kiss, and then sink to my knees, tugging her dress upward in one rough movement. She reaches for me instantly, her fingers sliding through my hair, gentle and soft. I wind my hands in the blue lace of her underwear and tear them down her legs.
Fuck. My. Life.
She’s gorgeous everywhere.
I practically growl, leaning forward to slide my tongue between her thighs. The hiss that leaves her makes my dickharden to the point of near pain. I use one hand to hold her body against the door and the other to separate her, finding the spot she needs me most and sucking it into my mouth.
“Oh my god,” she whispers breathlessly, her fingers tightening against my scalp.
She’s going to come at least twice tonight. Since I owe her one, interest has accrued.
I grumble against her, peering up at her pleasure-ridden face as she starts to ride my face against the wall. Both of her hands are gripping my head as she rotates her hips, her eyes fallen shut.
I slide my free hand to her entrance, letting out a deep, needy moan at what I find.
“I’m so wet,” she says breathlessly. “I’m sorry.”
I pull my mouth away, glancing up at her. She meets my eyes with heavy lids as I let my fingers take over. She immediately arches against me. “You’reapologizingfor making my dick hard now? What a change of pace.”
And what a clear sign that she’s been sleeping with losers.
She breathes a laugh, her eyes dark and full of want. I keep my gaze locked on her as I lift my thumb and let it replace my mouth, craving the way it makes her knees shake the second that I do.
“If you aren’t soaked before I touch you, I’m doing something wrong,” I tell her, moving in slow, torturous circles. Let this be a lesson for her. Men should want her to want this as bad as they do. “This is exactly what I want to feel when I’m with you. Don’t apologize.”
Before she can answer, I lower my mouth back to her body. I work until she’s sagging against me, grinding against my face, holding onto my hair like she’ll fall if she doesn’t. She tastes as good as she looks, and when she comes, she cries out in a way that makes it almost impossible not to follow right behind her.
It’s quiet, and desperate, and full of expletives. A devil’s mouth on an angel’s body.
I keep working until she’s begging me to stop, and only then do I slowly stand, kissing my way up her body as I do, taking her dress with me. I trail my mouth up her toned stomach, between her breasts, and up her neck. When I get to her jaw, I pull that dress over her head and toss it to the floor. Planting my hands on her hips, I force her tired body back against the wall when she tries to move forward.
She angles her head to peer up at me, her cheeks flushed from her orgasm, trapped between me and the door.
“Can I taste?” she whispers.
Can I drop dead?
That is single-handedly the hottest question I have ever been asked.
I might be obsessed with this woman. I might not recover from what’s about to happen. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the idea that she exists in the same world that I do. That I’ve been allowed to kiss her. To touch her.
I lean forward to glide my lips against hers. She deepens the kiss instantly, moaning at the taste of herself on my tongue.
