I backed Laureninto her bedroom, my hands on her waist and my mouth on her neck, and we tumbled onto the bed, sprawling over each other and laughing. The wine was saturating my brain, and it didn’t matter whether I brought any finesse to this moment. I had my filthy girl and I was going to do terrible things to her.
“Get undressed and get over here,” she said.
After toeing off my shoes and leaving my unbuttoned shirt hanging from my shoulders, my hand settled on my belt buckle while Lauren’s tongue darted out to lick her lips.
“Keep looking at me like that, Lauren,” I said, fully aware of my sharp, stern tone. “And we might not get very far.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“How can you not know?” I froze in place, exasperated that she still didn’t recognize what she did to me, that we still didn’t understand each other. Or I’d forgotten about her inexperience again.
Lauren crawled to the edge of the bed and reached out to grasp my belt, looking up at me with a virginal smile. “I need you to explain it to me.” Sitting back on her heels, she unlatched the buckle and drew my zipper down. She jerked my shirt from my shoulders and pushed my trousers over my hips, leaving them pooled at my feet.
“It means I know you’ve been thinking about me fucking you all day. It means I can’t wait to hear the filthy things you want. It means you have me so worked up right now, and all I need is one of your hot little looks and I’ll be coming all over you.”
Pushing her to the bed, I leaned down, my eyes fixed on her while my mouth covered her nipple, and she responded with a low whisper of approval. Smiling, I kissed and licked my way down her body until my lips traced the flesh between her hips.
“Tell me what you want,” I growled into her skin.
“Lick my pussy. I want to know how good it tastes.”
Her words—those dirty, electric words—were everything I needed and they did something to me I couldn’t explain. And I didn’t want to waste a minute on explanations when I could have my mouth on her clit.
My fingers brushed over her folds while I kissed from one hip bone to the other, and then down, lower, to where her arousal perfumed the air. I parted her, holding her open to feather my tongue over her, then dipping inside to taste her.
Pushing up on her elbows, Lauren gazed at me between her thighs while my lips fastened around her throbbing nub. She allowed an occasional moan or hum of satisfaction, but said nothing else while I drew her clit between my teeth, sucking and teasing, and filling her with my fingers.
She drove a hand through my hair and shifted my head to hit a different angle. “I want to hear it,” she said, her tone domineering. I fucking loved it. “I want to hear how good it tastes.”
I shifted my hand, pressing my thumb to her ass and adoring the flood of arousal it triggered. She didn’t know how to ask for it yet, but she liked it.
“You are fucking delicious. Sweet and salty and perfect,” I said against her mound, and I meant it. Not all pussy was created equal, and though I rarely made enough oral offerings to the beasts for adequate points of comparison, Lauren was my favorite. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without this pussy for three whole weeks.”
I looked up, following that golden skin over her belly, past those full, beautiful breasts, and up to her mouth. Our eyes met and my thumb pressed harder, and I saw the tremor move through her body as she came apart. Her head fell back, calling out forthere, there, right there,andoh, yes, don’t stop, and her thighs tensed around my head. She held me in place while she rode through her spasms, and I kept my tongue fixed to her.
Remembering Friday night was like calling up a distant memory, one gilded and soft around the edges. Four days stretched between that night and this moment, but inside the warp-speed incubator of those ninety-six hours, I was lost, overwhelmed, confused. But I didn’t want it to stop.
“I licked it and now it’s mine,” I said, my tongue sweeping from her clit to her core, and laughter rolled through Lauren.
Chapter Fifteen
LAUREN
Spitting the toothpasteinto the sink, I rinsed out my mouth a few more times. My knowledge of oral sex was pathetically limited, and though I savored the way Matthew surrendered when my tongue was wrapped around his shaft, and I even liked swallowing when he exploded in my mouth, there was nothing wrong with disliking the aftertaste.
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, trying to recognize the person looking back at me. I was different yet everything was exactly the same, and I wanted to find that thread of newness, that variation, and study it under a microscope. I wanted to know what it was and where it came from, and how I could encapsulate it and hold on to it forever because this night was ending too quickly, and my reality waited for me on the other side.
The hallway floor creaked beneath my feet, and I leaned against the doorframe, gazing at Matthew’s bare backside. I didn’t think they actually made men like this—strong and defined without being muscle-bound, dark without being excessively hairy, and gorgeous without being too pretty.
And most importantly, he was naked in my bed at three in the morning.
“I’m gonna need a little time after that.”
“Hmm?” I stammered, my thoughts stuck on the curve of his ass.
“Need some time to recover. I might be paralyzed.”
I collected the twisted heap of sheets and blankets from the floor, shaking them out and spreading them over the bed, over Matthew.
