I'd be lucky if I lasted half of that. I had a mental library of images featuring Clarke on her knees for me, just like this. In the showers at Bed of Roses, in the locker room after practice, once in the backseat of my car. Although, now that I thought about it, there wasone thingthat would make this moment more magnanimous than the rest.
"Do you have that red lipstick?"
She smiled up at me. "Which red?"
"Theredred. My favorite red. The one you were wearing that day you met my family."
The memory of my sister and nibling should have been a turnoff, but it had just the opposite effect. Because for the second time today, it had me thinking about Clarke with my family and how she had so seamlessly carved a place into my world. Into my heart.
"Drop Dead Red." The name hit me like a line drive to the nuts.
Fuck. The things this woman does to me.
It wasn't just me either. Mom was absolutely smitten with her—her words, not mine. She and the rest of the family had gotten the picture, loud and clear, during the Mother's Day game. They knew that I wouldn't have made that kind of bold gesture for anybody. No, Clarke was it for me.
End game.
"Actually, you might be in luck." She reached inside her small, crossbody bag. "I still have it in here from when we went out the other night."
"Would you—"
"Would I suck your dick while wearing it?"
I groaned. She blinked up at me innocently when her words were anything but. The sweet and sassy side of Clarke had been enticing from the very beginning, but this confident vixen? That was downright irresistible.
"I'd be happy to."
She applied the lipstick, smacking her pouty red lips together and moistening them with her tongue. Every muscle in my body coiled tightly when she wrapped a fist around around me, dragging it from the base of my cock all the way up to the swollen head and then back down again. She did it over and over, until I was gasping with need.
"Fuck," I growled. "Baby, please put me in your mouth."
A pretty pink rushed to her cheek, her eyes darkening with hunger.
"Like this?" she asked, swirling her tongue around the head, but never covering it with her mouth. Was she trying to kill me?
"No," she said, answering the question I hadn't realized I'd posed aloud. She tongued the pearl of precum beading at my tip. "Just loving you."
My fingers tightened in her messy bun. If it wasn't messy before, it would be now. Clarke might have been inexperienced, but judging by the way she looked up at me, her eyes full of hunger and longing, she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
"I love you," I moaned.
"Say it again."
"Fuck, Clarke, you know I love you. You're my heart, my life. I—"
Any coherent thoughts or reasoning were sucked clear out of me. Literally. I fought to stay on my feet when she wrapped her lips around my cock and swallowed me whole. All the way until I tapped her throat.
"Fuck!"I moaned loudly, forgetting where we were. Hell, I could barely remember my own name. Not when saliva was pooling in the corner of her lips, stretched wide around my cock. I tried to pull back. "Baby, that's too much. I don't want to hurt you."
"Number four, Soren," she said looking up at me, licking her swollen lips.
I stared down at her quizzically.Number four? A lightbulb went off.
The list.
Damn, I hadn't thought about that list in months. There hadn't been any need to. Clarke knew that if she wanted something, all she had to do was ask.
We had spent the first few weeks of our relationship testing her boundaries, figuring out things she liked—spankings, hair-pulling, and surprisingly, anal—and didn't like—ice cubes and reverse cowgirl, because it made her thighs cramp up—but we hadn't needed a list to make that happen.
