Page 40 of It Can't Be You


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All it took was one night—one first kiss, one first touch—to shatter the self-control I’d been clinging to for dear life. Because when it comes to Lily Davis, I’d fall to my knees and crawl over broken glass just to steal one more moment with her.

And now, ten months of sneaking around later, here we are in Cora and Owen’s house, breaking every rule, every boundary I once thought unbreakable.

“Mhmm,” she breathes, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. Her eyes are fierce, smouldering with that wicked challenge that both excites and terrifies me. Her lips curve into a smirk that says she knows exactly the power she holds over me.

“Imagine getting caught like this. Your fist in my hair, my lips wrapped around your cock. Tell me you don’t want that.”

The words land like lightning, sizzling down my spine, setting my entire body on edge. Part of me wants to stop, to protect us both from the fallout. But another, darker part is screaming,let them see, let them all fucking see, she’smine.

Her smirk, that wicked, knowing challenge burning fiercely in her eyes, it tears through every last shred of control I thought I still had. Like a tidal wave crashing through a fragile dam, it sweeps me away, leaving me exposed, vulnerable, and utterly powerless.

“Fucking hell. Don’t stop,” I beg, already on the verge of panting, and she’s barely even touched me. Looking up at me through her lashes, she reaches between us to snap my belt and button open. She drags my jeans and boxers down, eyes going wide and hungry as my cock springs free, flushed and leaking at the tip.

“God, look at you,” she breathes, licking her lips. “So fucking hard for me.”

And then she takes me into her mouth, and I swear I’ve died and gone to heaven.

Heat explodes through me like a bomb. Her lips slide down the head of my cock, slick and tight, her tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge until my eyes roll back. My head slams back, vision exploding into white sparks. A ragged moan tears out of my throat as pure, blistering ecstasy floods me.

“Shit—baby—” I gasp, clutching at her hair, trying not to buck my hips forward too hard. But she moans around me, eager and greedy, and the vibration shoots straight to my balls, making me lose my mind.

Her tongue flicks along the sensitive vein beneath the shaft. I fist her hair, tugging hard enough to make her gasp. Her eyes flick up to mine, glassy and dark with heat.

“My perfect fucking girl,” I growl, voice raw with worship and need. “That’s it. Take all of me down that pretty little throat. You can do that for me, can’t you, baby?”

She holds eye contact with me as she pushes down, inch by inch, until her lips are flush with my base, swallowing me so deep I feel her throat tighten around the tip. The wet heat clenches and releases, and I nearly come right there, gritting my teeth to hold back.

“You gonna be my good little whore and swallow every drop?” I growl, winding her hair tighter around my fist and pull her off my cock so I can think straight. A string of spit connects her swollen lips to my cock, and the sight alone nearly makes me come all over her pretty face.

She nods, desperate, lips parted, eyes cloudy with lust, trying to lean forward to take my cock back into her needy little throat.

But I’m not done teasing her yet. So as much as it pains me, I use my grip on her hair to keep her where I want her.

“Who said you’ve earned it yet?”

A whimper tears from her throat, her chest heaving while her hips shift on the floor, thighs pressing together as her own need rides her hard. Her breath comes in shallow pants, chest rising and falling, and her eyes burn like midnight fire.

I don’t want this to end. Not yet. Not when we’ve barely even started.

“Stand up,” I rasp.

She rises, shaky, flushed, her pupils blown wide. My thumb brushes her wet, parted lips. She sucks it into her mouth without hesitation, tongue swirling, and fuck, my knees almost buckle.

I crowd her back against the dining table and slide my hands under her skirt, pushing it up around her waist. I find the slick heat between her thighs and press two fingers against her swollen clit over her underwear.

“Fuck, you’re drenched,” I snarl, circling her clit as she shudders. “Were you getting off sucking my cock?”

“Yes,” she breathes, voice high and broken. “God, yes—”

I slide my fingers beneath the soaked fabric and sink them into her pussy. She’s so fucking tight and slippery that my breathcatches. Her inner walls pulse around my fingers, milking them, and her hips rock down greedily.

“Someone could come in,” she teases, voice trembling between fear and need.

“Let them,” I snarl, pressing my body flush against hers. “I want the whole fucking world to know who you belong to.”

“I’m yours,” she moans, rocking her hips shamelessly into my hand. “Please, Daddy…”

That slip of the tongue destroys me. Her eyes flare wide a split second before I spin her around, pressing her chest to the table, one hand gripping her hip, the other fisting in her hair. Cutlery rattles, a plate slides across the surface, but I don’t pause. Her ass arches back toward me, needy and perfect, and I push my jeans further down, lining myself up against her slick entrance.