Page 117

“Kota. I swear to fucking God I don’t fucking know. I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re freaking out about.”

“I didn’t shower right before this,” I confess with a burning face.

“I didn’t think you did.”

“Because I smell bad?” I try to squeeze my legs together tighter than before, picturing my pussy clenching shut like a clam. Please, please, please don’t stink.

“No. You smell like you always do. Warm vanilla and cherries.”

That’s my perfume. Good. He’s not close enough to tell yet.

“Well, still.”

Another poke to his forehead, another crease of his eyebrows, this one accompanied by a shake of his head.

“Still what?”

“Still, neither of us are fresh, so we should probably—”

“Do I smell bad?”

I inhale.

Spicy, citrusy walk through the woods—like usual.

Not willing to admit just how good he smells, I give a small shake of my head.

“Why the crash-out?”

Focused on his shirt, I roll the soft fabric between my fingers.

“Just trying to save you any unpleasantries.”

“I don’t need you to save me from anything, Silver. I come from unpleasantries.”

My eyes lift to meet his. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Neither does you freaking out about not being freshly showered.” A few moments pass of us silently studying each other. “Is that something Guy cares about?”

Once again, his shirt captures my attention, refusing to let go while I tell him, “Everyone’s entitled to their preferences.”

“Are you tapping or not?”

“No,” is out of my mouth before I fully consider it.

I watch Khaos closely as he presses down on my thighs with his elbows until I’m in a middle split, my toes dusting the floor on either side of me.

Keeping my gaze, he leans down and inhales up along my slit like it’s a line of cocaine, his nose brushing my pussy and setting off fireworks along every nerve ending. When he reaches the top, his eyes flutter closed, and he rasps, “I prefer my cunt to smell like cunt.”

All the oxygen in the room disappears in an instant. I. Cannot. Breathe.

“You have a cunt?” I manage to choke out.

His eyes open and lock on to mine, the pupils dilated. “Not yet.”

Nothing makes it past whatever the hell is clogging my throat as I try to swallow, once, twice, with no success. What is happening? I can’t breathe. I can’t swallow. Why am I malfunctioning?

Another set of shock waves rocks my pussy, reminding me one part of my body is still working properly.