“Why?” I tease. “Because your arrogant ass thinks you could go where no man has ever gone before?”
He doesn’t even smile. There is no teasing to him when he unequivocally says, “Yes.”
I snort, still trying to remain unaffected when, let’s face it, I’m not. I’m an emotional baggage mess. I’m the girl who legit could use a screaming orgasm right now the way no other woman could. But let’s not confuse things. I mean, the man who is offering said orgasm comes at a price.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to do that? Just because you’re a cocky dick and think you’re better at everything than everyone else?”
“Yes,” he says again, but he leans in, his nose gliding along my cheek up toward my ear, where he speaks against it. “My sweet little swan, I’d be more than happy to show you just whatkind of cocky dick I can be. But I think for this, for tonight, I should simply show you what an orgasm from a man who knows what he’s doing feels like.”
I’m hot. It must be ten thousand degrees in here because I’m sweating and flushed and I have the insane urge to rip off all of my clothes so I can cool down. Is this a pregnancy thing? Do women get hot flashes when they’re pregnant?
“We can’t.”
He pulls back and meets my eyes. “Why not?”
“Because you’re my fake husband and my brother’s best friend, and we have to live together for two years. Oh, and I don’t like you.”
“All the more reason that I should. You don’t like me, and it’s not as though anything will happen again after this. What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t know what my wife tastes like?”
Wow. That’s a strangely valid point. No! Wait. It’s not. Ah! I cover my face with my hands. “Stop talking. We said we wouldn’t do this. We can’t break that rule on day one.”
“Skylar Fritz Davenport Hughes, I’d like to slide your dress up your thighs, drop to my knees, and eat your cunt until you come all over my face.”
My hands fall and my eyes bulge. Holy motherfuck… “Did you just say that?”
“Consider it my wedding present.”
I tilt my head, already soaking through my panties to the point where these fuckers are ruined. I’ve never been more turned on. But yet.
“I’m broken. You’ll never be able to make me come. Men have tried. Trust me. They’ve all failed.”
A glint of mischief and determination flickers in his eyes. “Challenge accepted. Hands back on the counter, thighs spread wide. I want your heels to stay on and your eyes on mine. And I want you to be a good girl and say yes. Right now.”
19
ASTON
Her head tilts, and her blonde hair falls over her shoulder, tickling the top of one breast. She’s so sexy, and she has no clue. She’s not even trying to be. It’s just her. “Do I get to call you Daddy?”
I grin. She thinks I’m kidding. Or at least she’s trying to play it off that I am.
“Only if you want to be my brat and get punished. Then by all means call me Daddy.”
I brush her hair back and over her shoulder, dragging my hand across her neck and loving how goose bumps rise in my wake. Her breath hitches and her hands twist in her lap, but she straightens her spine, trying to be defiant.
“I know how to fake it,” she threatens. “Better than anyone else. What makes you think you can tell the difference?”
“Only lazy men can’t tell the difference. You fake it because you don’t think you’ll be able to come. They get frustrated with how long it takes you, and they don’t care enough to challenge it because all they want to do is come.”
She squints at me. “You’re saying you don’t?”
“I’m saying the whole reason we’re doing this is for me to make you come, so faking is futile and doesn’t help either of us. If I don’t make you come, then don’t come. But IknowI can, and I will.”
“How—” She clears her throat, and her pink tongue licks her equally pink lips. “How do you know?”
