Page 94 of I’m The Worst

He’s speaking a language I don’t recognize. Whatever it is, it’s not casual. There’s tension in every word, in the way his hand flexes at his side, in the way his shoulders stay locked. The call ends, and he tosses the phone onto the bed without looking.

I hesitate for a second before stepping into the room.

“Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer.

I walk farther into the room and sit on the bed, gripping the towel around me.

He finally turns, hands running through his hair and down his beard. There’s something in his expression I’ve never seen before—something heavier.

I stare at him, my fingers digging into the towel.

His eyes slowly scan my face, lingering on my lips before dropping to the towel.

“Wolff…” I don’t know what I’m asking. Maybe for him to look away. Or not to.

He steps closer.

My chest rises and falls faster. He stops right in front of me, close enough that I can feel the heat of his body.

“Drop the towel.”

His command makes something deep in my stomach twist.

I swallow and pull at the edge of it, loosening the fold. The fabric slips down my chest, catching for a second before falling to my waist. I let it drop the rest of the way, and it puddles around me on the bed, leaving me completely exposed.

His eyes slowly drag down my body.

“Lean back.”

My breath catches, but I do it—leaning back on my elbows, thighs pressing together as my core throbs in anticipation. He stares at me like he’s deciding exactly how he’s going to ruin me.

“Spread your legs.”

I hesitate only a second before my knees fall open, baring my pussy to him. His gaze drops straight to it, dark and hungry.

He takes another step closer, then drops to his knees between my parted thighs.

I feel his breath before anything else—hot against my inner thighs. Then his mouth is on me.

He licks a slow, rough line up my thigh, then does the same to the other, his large hands gripping my legs, holding them wide open. My hands fist in the sheets, hips shifting restlessly as I wait, barely able to stand it.

“I’m going to eat this cunt, and you’re going to stop asking so many goddamn questions.”

I whimper as his mouth closes over my pussy, tongue greedily sliding through my folds. The sensation is so sudden and intense, I cry out, back arching off the bed. He licks me like he’s starving—broad strokes from my entrance to my clit, then back down, pushing his tongue inside me, fucking me with it.

He groans low in his throat, the vibration right over my clit and traveling all the way to my toes.

“Fuck…you taste good,” he mutters, almost angry about it. “Been thinking about this little cunt for days. How sweet it is. How tight it gets when you come.”

His hands tighten on my thighs, spreading me even wider as he buries his face deeper. Sucking my clit into his mouth, he flicks his tongue fast and hard, then licks back down to push inside me again. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on me fill the room.

I’m shaking, hips trying to buck against his face, but he holds me down with brutal strength.

He eats me like he owns me, almost punishing. Every lick, every suck, every thrust of his tongue feels like he’s claiming territory.

My hands fly to his hair, fingers twisting in the dark strands. He immediately grabs my wrists and pins them to the bed beside my hips without lifting his mouth.