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Into me.
Filling her mouth, my tongue swirls and tastes her, my cock twitching at the same time, knowing that in just a few moments, my tongue will be tasting more of her. Fuck. I want to know how her cunt tastes, her cum, all of her.
Every goddamn inch.
CHAPTER
NINE
SHAWN
King’s tongue tastes my mouth, tastes me thoroughly. When he breaks the kiss, his blue eyes sparkle as he watches me. I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck, slipping them through the strands of his soft hair. Tangling them, I tug gently as I suck in a breath and hold it for a moment.
God, he’s perfection.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“Ready?” I exhale.
His lips curve up into a grin. He is clearly finding joy in this, in my question, because he clears his throat before he speaks. And when he does, he clearly tries to hold back his chuckles of laughter. I don’t mind it, though, considering I have no clue what I’m doing.
“Are you ready for me to fuck you? For me to taste your cunt, for me to own you?”
Goose bumps break out all over my entire body. I open my mouth, then close it. I don’t know how to respond to that, and thankfully, he doesn’t demand I do. Instead, he reaches down, his hands gripping my ass before he picks me up.
“Are you, Shawn?” he asks, his mouth touching mine as he walks through my tiny apartment.
There’s only one bedroom and one bathroom, so I don’t have to give him any directions on where to go. He can find it, probably with his eyes closed.
When he steps into the bedroom, he moves straight for my bed, then stops at the end but doesn’t let me down to my feet. Instead, his hands grip my ass even harder. His mouth is on mine, and he asks me the question again.
“Are you ready?”
I don’t know what I am. I’m not sure if I’m ready for this man, this man’s man. He’s rough, gruff, and smells like leather and grease. I want his hands all over me, his lips, and his tongue. I want every part of him all over every part of me. I’ve never felt this way before.
“No,” I whimper.
It’s the truth. I don’t think I could ever be ready for the man he is. I don’t think anyone could be. He is not just a man. Not just any man. He is all man. He’s the man. He hums against my mouth as his hands shift from my ass.
He grips my waist with one hand while the other slides up my spine and tangles in my hair. Tugging my head back, he exposes my throat, and then his lips touch the center, sucking me there before he licks and kisses down to the hollow.
My entire body trembles and I am nothing but putty in his hands. Melted goo ready for him to mold and create, be bent to his will and made just for him.
And I want that.
I want to be his.
In this moment, I realize he can do whatever he wishes, and I’m going to let it happen. I’m going to beg him for it. Beg for it. Whatever it is. All the things. Everything.
“Please,” I whisper.
“Please?” he asks against my skin.
“I’m ready.”
It’s a lie.
I’m not ready. I don’t know if I could ever be ready, and I’m sure he knows it, but he doesn’t call me out on it. Instead, he begins to remove my clothing until I’m completely naked, and when I am, he releases me and takes a step backward.
