She’s as bad as I am, happy to let me drag my hands down her body. Just imagining her wearing a new patch has my cock pulsing.
Helping me shove her jeans and underwear down, she barely steps out of them before I’m crashing down onto my knees.
Hooking her leg over my shoulder, I don’t waste time licking into her. She tastes even richer than usual. Must be the lowkey love confession, huh?
The sound she makes is a punched-out gasp, following the low purr of my name.
I don’t just taste her. I devour her. My tongue finds her clit, and I worship it, a flat, firm stroke that makes her thighs twitch against my cheeks.
Her juices coat my lips, my chin. I lap them up, greedy, starving. Each flutter of her cunt against my mouth is a silent plea, and I meet her with an answer. My tongue circles, flicks, then drives deep inside her, and the groan she lets out is loud, ragged, gloriously unconcerned with who might hear.
“That’s it,” I mutter against her, the vibration pulling another choked moan from her throat. “Louder. I wanna hear it.”
My hands dig into the flesh of her ass, holding her to my mouth as I drink her down. Every gasp, every broken syllable of my name is mine. Mine.Mine.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, not guiding, just clutching as her hips start to rock against my face. I let her. I let her use my mouth, my tongue, chasing her own pleasure. She wants to use me? Fuck yeah, I’m happy to volunteer my mouth.
Her whole body starts trembling, her leg over my shoulder shaking. Pulling at my hair, her body bows against the door.
Sucking her clit between my lips, her thighs tremble before she’s crying out, soaking my chin with her juices as her high comes crashing down hard.
As soon as I’m carefully setting her down, she’s yanking me back to my feet so we can share another kiss, this one flavored of her. My favorite flavor. As her tongue dances along with mine, I feel her hand cup me through my jeans before she squeezes me just right.
“Should I go tell Diesel now? I don’t think I can wait long for a new patch to be made.” Panting, my brows pinch together when she undoes my jeans with jerky motions.
“I want to fuck.” The zipper catches as she yanks it down.
Christ.
Okay. Diesel can wait. My girl comes first.
12
Raven
I’m dizzy with pleasure the moment Jinx punches forward, filling my body with one solid, fluid thrust. He’s braced above me, his forearms caging my head, the hard lines of his body a delicious, crushing weight. He doesn’t wait for me to adjust, doesn’t give me a second to breathe. He sets a punishing, perfect rhythm from the start, his hips pistoning, driving the air from my lungs in sharp, punched-out gasps.
My pussy clenches around him, a tight, wet fist, and with every withdrawal, it’s like my own body betrays me, trying to suck him back in, to keep him sheathed deep. The sensation is overwhelming—a coil of overwhelming pleasure tightening low in my belly with every brutal, beautiful stroke.
I think I’ve become addicted to sex, or at least, the pleasure it brings. It makes me want to beg him for more, an act I could never imagine myself doing. Right here, right now? I’m fighting not to whimper, to act weak. He’s making it impossible.
He lowers his mouth to mine, swallowing the ragged moan that tears from my throat. His kiss is as demanding as his hips, rough in a way that makes my body sing with praise. I can only whimper against his lips, the sounds stolen and smothered by his tongue.
Is his goal to devour me? At this rate, that’s precisely what’s going to happen.
A deep, ragged grunt vibrates from his chest into mine. “Fuck, Raven,” he pants against my mouth, his own breath scorching. “The way you take me… like you were made for it. So wet… I can’t pull out if I wanted to.”
His pace doesn’t falter, only grows more focused, more intent. Each drive of his hips rocks me up the bed, the friction sparking something frantic and essential in my core. The coil is wound so tight I feel dizzy with it, my vision growing blurry in the corners of my eyes.
He tears his mouth from mine, his forehead dropping to press against my shoulder. His breaths are hot, wet gusts on my skin. “Gonna bury myself so deep,” he growls, the words rough and a little different from usual. “Gonna fill you up so much. Make sure you feel me for days.”
He’s always pulled out, no question. Today’s different. Today, I agreed to be his old lady.
My answer is a broken cry as I wrap my legs high around his hips, crossing my ankles at the small of his back. I lock him in place, my thighs trembling with the strain, refusing to let him retreat even a fraction.
I want it. The heat that’ll come is what leaves me more eager than usual. I’ve wanted it badly. Keeping my feelings a secret, there is nothing to hold me back anymore.
He lets out a choked, approving sound, a groan that’s half triumph, half surrender. My eagerness is what pushes him over the edge.
