Page 148 of Fake it ’Til Fall

I drag it out. Lick, then stop. Let her drop her hips down, chase me. She says my name like it’s a threat. “Wolfe.”

Everything in me goes quiet.

I lift my head just enough to look at her.

Her hair is spread against the pillow. Her mouth is parted. Her eyes are too bright, too honest, and I know she’s about two seconds from making some self-protective joke if I give her room to breathe.

So I don’t.

I grin against her. Then flatten my tongue and push. The taste of her, the heat, is so intense I could lose myself, but I hold back, just enough. My hand slides up to her stomach and presses her down, pinning her. She wants to buck, but I won’t let her, not yet.

“Please,” she gasps, the word more breath than sound. “Fuck, please⁠—”

I hum against her.

The vibration makes her curse again, softer this time, like she’s offended by her own body for having the nerve to be this responsive.

I let up just enough to look at her.

Mistake.

She’s watching me with wide, ruined eyes, pupils blown, lips parted around a breath she can’t quite finish. Her thighs tremble beneath my hands in tiny, helpless waves, and she looks embarrassed by that too, like she’s mentally drafting a strongly worded complaint to her nervous system.

“Greedy girl,” I murmur.

Then I nip at her clit.

Her whole body jerks.

“Wolfe.”

There it is again.

That name in her mouth.

Half warning. Half plea. All Daisy trying to sound in charge while falling apart under my tongue.

I grin because I am a weak man with excellent motivation.

She moans and grips the sheets harder. “You said you’d be nice.”

“I am being nice.”

Her laugh breaks into a gasp when I lick her again, long and slow, dragging my tongue through her until her hips lift off the mattress.

“This is not—” She sucks in a breath. “This is not what civilized people mean by nice.”

“I’m not civilized.”

“No,” she pants. “You’re a menace with shoulders.”

“Keep talking,” I say against her. “I like knowing when you lose the plot.”

“I have not lost the plot.”

I circle her clit with my tongue, slow enough to make her shake, firm enough to make her forget whatever argument she was building.

Her back arches.