Page 38 of Detroit


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It was only then, realizing I would be caught watching him—as if I hadn’t done enough terrible things already that morning—that I managed to rush right out of the room, closing the door a little too quickly, and it wasn’t completely silent.

But I ran from there, hoping that he had been too distracted to hear.

I spent the rest of the day feeling like a complete creep. Or, worse yet, some sort of predator. But not brave enough to address it the more time passed.

So I avoided him as much as possible.

Then resigned myself to sleeping in a frigid bedroom because there was no way I could be trusted beside him again.

With that in mind, I went into the bathroom to take the longest, hottest shower of my life. Until every inch of my skin was bright pink, and all I could think about was getting cool enough again.

I cracked the door as I brushed my teeth, then did my skincare.

I had just finished that when the door flew open.

And there was Detroit.

I didn’t have that knee-jerk moment of insecurity at being caught wearing nothing but a towel that just barely covered my lady bits, and my boobs were all but bursting out of.

Because his gaze moved over me, hungry, heated, and I felt the desire bloom through me once again.

“Fuck it,” he grumbled, that deep voice of his seeming to vibrate into my bones, as he slammed the door behind him and stalked forward.

I had no idea what he was doing.

But then his giant hands were sinking into my hips, lifting me up and off my feet, then depositing me onto the cabinet beside the sink.

My breath was caught in my chest as his molten gaze met mine for a minute as he stood before me.

His hands went to my knees, pressing them wide.

There was a short pause, him waiting for any signs of objection.

I bite my lip and gave him a slight nod.

He held my gaze, and suddenly dropped down to his knees.

Then his face was buried between my thighs, his tongue tracing up my cleft.

My entire body jolted at the sensation, my thighs shaking as his tongue circled around my clit.

I felt myself spreading my thighs wider, silently inviting more.

I could feel the surprise of how much I was responding to him.

I’d never really liked receiving oral sex before. I couldn’t tell if it was based on personal insecurities, or because of less skilled partners, but I generally just avoided it. And my exes hadn’t seemed to care to do it anyway, so it just never really happened.

But I was so absorbed in this moment, in the feel of him, in the way my body was responding.

Before I knew it, my hand was slapping down on the back to his head, holding him to me in case he dared to try to pull away before I could get more of this. Get all of it.

My thighs closed around the side of his head as he continued to tease around my clit, but refused to make direct contact.

Just when I thought I’d go crazy, his tongue teased over my clit, making pleasure jolt through me, hinting at an orgasm, but not quite giving it to me yet.

My soft sighs became moans as he continued to work me.

His hand moved between us, his fingers tapping at the entrance of my body, then teasing inside, dragging a loud moan out of me.

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