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Releasing my cock, I wrap my fingers around the fabric of my shirt and push it up her body, exposing her breasts and hard nipples.
“Fucking goddess. The things I want to do to you.”
“Keep dreaming. You’re not having me again.”
Lies. All fucking lies.
“Listen to your body, Em. Not your head.”
“I hate you.”
“I know. And you should. But let me remind you of one reason you shouldn’t.”
Wrapping my hands around her thighs, I drag her down the bed until her arse is hanging over the edge.
Dropping to my haunches, I spread her legs as wide as they’ll go, taking in her pretty pussy.
“Theo, you shouldn’t—”
Rolling my eyes up her body, I hold her heated stare. She wants to tell me to leave, to refuse herself the release she’s so desperate for. But I know she’s not going to. She needs it—me—too badly.
“We all do things we shouldn’t, Em. That’s half the fun.”
“ARGH,” she moans loudly when I dip my head and lick up the length of her.
A moan rumbles from deep in my chest when her taste coats my tongue.
“Fucking addictive,” I repeat against her, allowing her to feel the vibrations of my deep voice.
“Oh God,” she cries, her back arching off the bed, her fingers twisting in my hair and pulling so hard I swear she’s about to rip it clean from my head.
“Give me all you’ve got, Hellcat. I can take it.”
Her heels dig into my shoulders as she grinds against my face.
Dipping lower, I push my tongue inside her, making her cry out my name.
Makes. Me. Feel. Like. A. Fucking. King.
Focusing back on her clit, I lift two fingers and thrust them inside her, bending them to hit the spot she loves.
“Oh fuck. Yes. Yes,” she cries. “Theo. Yes. Fuck.”
I don’t stop until her body locks up with pleasure and her cunt squeezes my fingers so tight I wonder if she’s going to cut off the blood supply.
I don’t stop until she comes down from her high, then I push to stand, wiping my face with the back of my hand and falling over her limp body.
“I’m fucking addicted to you, Hellcat,” I confess again just in case she missed it the first two times.
My lips brush hers, desperate to lose myself in everything that is Emmie Ramsey—or Cirillo, I guess.
I’m just about to deepen it when her palms press against my chest, holding me barely a hair from her lips.
“Em,” I groan, beyond frustrated.
Her eyes hold mine. The heat and desire from only moments ago have gone, and in their place is coldness and anger.
“You can leave now.”
