Glancing down, my jaw drops when I realize that she just poured Grizzly Dash syrup onto my body.
“I kind of like the idea of torturing you a little,” she confesses while she tips the bottle to draw a line of syrup up to my chest.
“What in the world is in that mind of yours?” I’m already afraid of the sticky mess this is going to create. Tree sap is the glue of about ninety-nine problems, and Violet isn’t one of them.
She leans down to press her hot mouth between my ribs and peers up, flicking her tongue along my skin. “Do I lick up or down?” It doesn’t sound like a question, more of a taunt.
I groan from the agony she’s causing me. All options have me anticipating her body underneath me.
The tip of her wet tongue darts out, and she slowly licks up one stroke before moving back down. “Hmm, I love maple.” Her hum is like sex to the ears.
“Your plan is to torture me with syrup?” I close my eyes as I take in the feeling of her tongue tracing a line on my body, up and up, until I open my eyes to find our lips within kissing distance. I attempt to capture her mouth, but she only gives me her breath tracing my lips, fueling a sensitive wave of need inside of me.
“I should lick lower, shouldn’t I?” Her whisper is sultry and teasing.
“You are something, Vi.”
She pauses, and her mouth quirks up. “Nobody calls me Vi, except you.”
“Sorry, I like it. Violet is perfect for you, kind of like you were destined to do something with flowers, but Vi, it’s… like a vow that I’m not sure I should be taking.” I half-laugh.
A beautiful smile appears on her lips. “You’re distracting me from my mission.”
“Oh, sorry, please do continue spreading the goo all over my body and doing wicked things,” I encourage, only to moan when her tongue lands below my heart and slides lower.
Just watching her slither down my body has me about to break my invisible rope that I’ve tied myself in. I want to let her lead because this woman has some plans that I’m on board with.
“Still afraid of maple syrup?” she asks mid-stroke.
“Trust me, it will ruin the moment at some point. Your lips are going to be ridiculously sweet.”
She flashes me a smirk. “Which lips?”
I chuckle because every moment with her is fun. I’ve already forgotten about my last hour of mulling over life choices.
“Lower,” I plead.
She unhooks the button of my jeans and unzips my pants. “Like, this low?” Her mouth skims the rim of my boxers, and I tilt my hips up to brush my bulge against her hot mouth.
“If your plan was to make me painfully hard, then you’ve succeeded.”
A low giggle in the back of her throat has me concerned. Her tongue swirls just below my navel before she pulls away and returns to straddling me. “That’s a point for me then.” She smirks slyly before swinging her legs off the bed to stand over me. “Oh dear,” she pouts. “Declan is all sticky and hard. Such a shame that I only planned to taste the syrup.”
Holy shit.
This is her game?
“Whoa, you’re going to leave me hanging?”
She shakes her head. “I’m debating.”
I’m about to hop up off the bed to take control of this situation, but I feel excess syrup running down the side of my body, and if I’m not careful then my sheets will become a mess.
“You’re just going to leave?” My voice is filled with disbelief and cracks in fear.
“I guess I could leave a note on your pillow.” She quirks her lips to the side.
I roll my eyes, completely taken in by her banter, but after her blatant rule-breaking, I’ll gladly take my free shot when I notice a crystalized and shiny substance in her hair.
