Page 126 of Just One Little Bargain

Evie watches my claws shorten back into ordinary nails. “You didn’t have to get rid of them.”

“For this, I did.”

“Milo—”

“I know you trust me.” My fingertips skim the inside of her knee. “I also know exactly where I intend to put my hands.”

The flush across her cheeks deepens.

“You’re perfect. I know it’s not a very creative observation, but you are.”

Her palm settles against my cheek. “So are you.” She draws me in. “Come here.”

Instead, I hook my fingers into the waistband of her jeans.

“That works too.” She lifts just enough for me to strip them away. Pink lace is all that’s left, riding low on her hips. My hand spreads across her stomach, fingers dipping under the waistband, and I pause.

She meets my eyes and nods.

My calloused fingertips trace the delicate lace, finding her drenched where it clings to every fold. One slow stroke through her wet heat draws her hips into my palm. Before she settles, I catch the waistband and peel it down her thighs, leaving nothing between us.

I sink to my knees.

Evie looks down at me. “What are you doing?”

“Having my dessert.”

The counter places her almost perfectly above me, her thighs opening on either side of my shoulders. My first breath against her clouds the edges of my glasses. The mist creeps across the lenses with every exhale, stealing more of the view until she’s little more than a blurred shape above me.

I hook one arm beneath her thigh and ease her forward until she’s balanced at the edge, knees spread around my shoulders. She’s slick and flushed above me, and I have to tear myself out of staring before I lean in.

One lens drags against her inner thigh on the first lick, leaving the glass smeared. I peer up over the wire rim just long enough to catch her expression before heat fogs the view again.

My tongue moves broad and flat from her entrance upward, slowly mapping each ridge and tremor. I don’t give her another. Instead, I circle her clit in light figure eights, keeping just shy of the place she needs me most. By the second circuit, her hips are already following the pattern.

“Stay still,” I say, unable to hide the satisfaction in my voice. “Actually, don’t. I like knowing I’m the reason you can’t.”

I close my lips over her and suck with slow, unwavering pressure. Her hand buries itself in my hair and holds me there, as if there’s any chance I’d willingly leave.

Her thighs tighten around my head, pressing the frames harder against my face until the wire bites at the bridge of my nose. I work one finger inside her while my mouth stays sealed over her, easing deeper through the heat gripping me. Instead of thrusting, I curl upward and hold the pressure there.

Her head drops back. “There. That’s—”

“I know.” I keep the pressure there as she clenches around my finger, easing off only to return in a slow pulse while my mouth keeps a different rhythm.

The two rhythms pull her breathing apart. When I ease in a second finger, her body opens around the stretch, and it nearly finishes me. Sweat gathers at my temples and dampens the arms of the frames, but fixing them would mean lifting my mouth from her, and I’d sooner give up air.

“More,” she gasps.

I hum my agreement, curling my fingers harder while I tighten my mouth around her clit. My thumb presses at her entrance, and the added pressure bows her off the counter. Every adjustment earns me something new: a higher break in her voice, her stomach clenching, the sharp dig of her heel into my back. I note every one and adjust again.

Her pussy tightens around my fingers in quickening pulses, each squeeze telling me how close she is.

“Not like this,” Evie moans.

I freeze, and she makes a frustrated whimper at the sudden loss of movement.

“What do you need?”