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He hustled Eleanor out of the living room and down the hallway toward the front door. Her overnight bag sat in front of the hall closet, and he scooped it up and slung it over his shoulder before opening the front door.
When Eleanor hesitated in the doorway, he tugged on her hand. She chewed on her lip and said, “Wes, are you sure?”
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her soft palm. “Yes. Let’s go home, Butterfly.”
CHAPTER 15
Eleanor’s nerves sang higher than a soprano as she stepped inside the house. Wes closed the door behind her and dropped her bag on the floor. She’d taken only two steps when Wes took her arm and pushed her up against the wall. With a strangely fierce look on his face, he wound his hand in her hair, pulled her head back, and swiped his jaw across her throat.
She shivered at the rough stubble, goosebumps prickling to life across her skin as Wes purred before marking her throat twice more.
“Better?” she said shakily.
“Hmm,” he muttered before kissing her throat. “Not enough, but I’ll mark you some more later. Right now, I have something much more pressing to do to you.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” She clutched at his head, waves of lust radiating throughout her nerve endings when he kissed her breasts through her dress and skimmed his hands over her hips.
“Mouth stuff,” he said with a sexy grin that made her already damp panties turn soaking wet.
Oh God, she was so turned on, it was entirely possible she’d just come right here in his damn hallway. It hadn’t helped that Wes kept one hand on her thigh the entire drive home, not stroking or caressing, just a steady weight right above her knee. That warm, unmoving pressure against her skin had driven her crazier than if he’d slid his hand up her dress and touched her pussy. She was honestly surprised she hadn’t crashed the damn car.
“Wes,” she breathed when he knelt in front of her and kissed her flat stomach, “we should go to the bedroom.”
“Nah,” he said before biting her hipbone. He tugged on her dress with his teeth as his hands slid up under her dress and caressed both her thighs. “Spread your legs, Butterfly.”
She glanced at the front door and the long narrow windows that flanked it before spreading her legs shamefully wide. Wes purred his approval, and she moaned when he kissed her pussy through her dress, his thumbs kneading the crease between her legs and her pussy.
“Pull up your dress,” he said.
“Wes,” she glanced again at the windows, “someone might see us.”
“Maybe,” he said and pulled on her dress again with his teeth. “Pull your dress up around your waist, Eleanor.”
Oh fuck. She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. But Wes was impossible to resist. Not when he stared up at her with that intense look of need while his hands caressed her skin.
She pulled her dress up, bunching it around her waist. Wes growled happily as he stared at the barely-there thong she wore.
She’d told herself that she hadn’t worn her skimpiest underwear in the hopes that Wes might see them, but she couldn’t deny the heady rush of pleasure she got from the way Wes stared at the scrap of fabric.
She gasped in surprise when his fangs descended, and he leaned in and hooked the side string of her thong with his fangs. One quick twist of his head and the sliced string laid limply against her outer thigh. He moved to her left and sliced through the remaining string with another twist of his head. Her thong fell to the floor, and Wes’s purring kicked up a notch in sound and vibration.
“Your pussy is beautiful, Butterfly,” he said with something that almost sounded like reverence. “I can’t wait to taste it.”
“Wes, I… oh God.” She clutched at his head as he pressed a kiss against the small patch of hair at the top of her pussy before lifting her left leg and draping it over his shoulder.
“Oh God,” she repeated when his warm breath washed over her wet pussy lips. “Wes, the bedroom, we should go to the… oh fuck!”
Her voice ended in a strangled cry as Wes licked her pussy with a flat stroke of his tongue. She leaned against the wall, her body trembling and her pelvis arching as Wes licked her again. His tongue probed along her slit, and when he finally reached her aching, throbbing clit, she cried his name and buried one hand into his hair, the other clutching at her dress. She ground her pussy against his face, staring with wild eyes at the top of Wes’s dark head.
He purred continuously as he sucked on her clit. Her low cries turned shrill, the pleasure already building into something hot and unstoppable. She dug her heel into Wes’s broad back, pulled his hair, and moaned his name as her climax washed over her.
Wes purred again before lifting his head and pressing a kiss just above her pussy. He eased her leg down and stood gracefully. Afraid she might simply collapse like a broken toy, she clutched at his shoulders as he smiled at her.
“I love the way you taste, Butterfly.”
“Thank you,” she said as she heaved in another lungful of air. “I love the way you eat pussy.”
He laughed and then picked her up. She used the fabric of her dress to wipe off his face. “The amount of liquid on your face is kind of embarrassing.”
