Page 15 of Bitter Lies


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“You mean like I did you in the bathroom?” I ask. “How I sucked you dry?”

Something in the side of his neck twitches, and his eyes narrow into slits until every breath I take is labored.

“Are you trying to tell me you want a repeat of what happened?” Intention drips from every word he utters, and my entire body goes hot.

The area between my legs is molten, and his gaze inevitably drops to my chest, where he probably notes the hard nipples beneath the black stretchy material of the dress.

His attention narrows on me, and I feel it over every inch of my body.

“You said no,” I remind him, sounding breathy and needy at the same time. “You always tell me no.”

“Because I’m the only one with self-control.” He shifts his weight to the opposite knee, staring me down, the look on his face an oddly tantalizing combination of need and dominance. Over himself. Over me.

My gaze snaps up to his. “If you keep such a tight leash on yourself, then eventually, you’re going to crack, and the fallout will be worse than any momentary lapse of control. Or maybe you’re just trying to prove a point.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Maybe you’re trying to prove you don’t want me even though I saw evidence to the contrary.” My skin contracts until I’m too hot, throbbing, the area between my legs wet and needy.

For Ricardo.

Always for Ricardo.

“Isabella.”

My name is a plea, only I’m not sure if it’s for me to understand his position…or just for me. Period. Every thought in my head empties out until it is only the two of us and this bed. The same thing that happened in the club.

He juts his hips against me again, a corner of his lip lifted in a silent snarl.

“What are you afraid will happen?” I make myself ask. “You’ll like it too much and get on your knees for me?”

“You like the visual you present.” Something shifts across his expression. “Even if it’s a mistake.”

My stomach clutches. “Keep telling yourself it’s a mistake, but I know we’ll both be thinking about your cock in my mouth tonight.”

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Ricardo refuses to move, but his breath hisses out of him.

The bulge in his pants gives me a grand indication of what I do to him, but I can’t speak. Not when he shifts forward to press his erection against me. Staring at me as he grinds his hips. I reach for his lips, my chest heaving, waiting.

The kiss never comes.

The last bit of restraint crumbles, and he lunges backward, dragging me over to the end of the bed and throwing my legs open. Kneeling between them and staring down at me with his top teeth biting down on his lower lip. Ready to devour.

My mouth dries as his gaze sears straight through me. He holds eye contact, trailing his fingers up the inside of my thigh. A growl vibrates the back of his throat, and he pushes my dress up to my hips. My thong is soaked through to the point where desire drips down the sides of my legs and down to my ass.

“Look at you.” He spreads my legs wider, and I let him.

Let him settle in between them and crook a finger through my thong to move it to the side. Watching me until I moan, practically feeling the contact even though he’s not touching me yet.

Ricardo only drags his hand down my front, tugging the straps of my thong further out of the way with the other until he has an unimpeded view of my entire core. He finally presses his lips to my inner thigh, to my knee. To my ankle as he slips the thong off and tucks it in his pocket. His breath warms my skin, and the low groan lights a fire under me. He stares at my core, and suddenly I lose my breath.

Lose all sense entirely when he drops his head and swipes his tongue along my slit without warning.

I arc upward with a yelp, unable to stop the sound.

He rakes his teeth over me before he bites down gently on my engorged clit, working it between his teeth. His dark laugh does something strange to my insides. I strain for him, reaching, wanting to drag him closer as my hips twist up to push against his mouth. Instead of giving me what I want, he presses his palm flat on my lower abdomen to keep me in place.

His personal feast.

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