Page 126 of Red Marked

My pussy spasms around his fingers in these hard, rolling pulls, and I groan so hard my throat hurts. It goes on and on. I can’t breathe through it. I can only ride it, and Flint stays exactly where he is, his mouth gentle now, his fingers still. He waits while it rips through me and slowly, slowly lets me go.

By the time it’s done, I’m a heap in the middle of the bed. Every muscle I own has quit. I do feel better. A little less achy.

“That was amazing,” I say to the ceiling, breathing hard.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“It was.” I laugh, and it comes out breathless. “It really was. I think it’s cute that you are having confidence issues.”

“Stop laughing at me.” He’s smiling while he says it.

“I’m laughing with you.”

“If you say so.”

He climbs off the bed. The takeout bag is on the desk where I dropped it earlier, and he picks it up and puts it on the sheet next to me.

“Here. Have a few food-gasms.”

I frown at the bag. Then at him.

He’s already bent over, snagging his boxers off the floor. I note that his cock is still rock hard.

He steps into them and then his jeans, hauling them up over his thighs, and he’s doing up the button when I finally find my voice.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to find us condoms.”

He picks his T-shirt up off the carpet and pulls it over his head.

“I thought you never fucked the same female twice.” I lift my brows.

“I’m breaking my rule.” He finds one boot by the closet door, sits on the edge of the bed to shove his foot into it, and goes hunting for the other. It’s under the desk. “Eat while you can. I’m going to make your magical pussy come twice at the end of my dick, but only when you beg me to let you come.”

“A challenge.” I bob my brows. “I like it.”

He grunts, lacing his boot.

I open the bag, and the smell hits me. It’s hot sauce and fried chicken, and my stomach growls. I dig out a wing and bite into it, and the sauce burns. I moan out loud because, hello, hot wings, where have you been my whole life?

“Don’t make me jealous of a hot wing.” Flint stands, grumbling, and shoves his wallet into his back pocket.

I shoot him a smile.

He leans in and licks my mouth. “Sauce. Hmmmmm… So good.” His voice is gravelly.

I’m not sure if he’s referring to me or the hot wing.

He picks up the key card off the desk and stops at the door with his hand on the handle. He looks back at me. At all of me, sprawled naked across the bed.

“I’ll be back,” he warns.

“I’ll be right here.” I pull another wing out of the box and lick my fingers, my eyes glued to the food in my hand.

“Holy shit, Star. What have you done to me?”

Then he’s gone.