Page 82 of River & Rue

“Have you been trying to seduce me?”

Eyes more black than gold search mine. His throat convulses. “Yes. I want you so fucking much.”

A blistering wave of arousal spreads beneath my skin. My nipples tighten. I press my thighs together, already regretting my choice of no underwear under my pajamas.

River tenses like he’s about to lunge for me. I throw a hand up and he stills.

“Get rid of the towel and spread your knees.”

His brows draw together, his breaths coming fast and shallow. As he wages an internal battle, I watch a water droplet slide down his stomach. When it disappears beneath his towel, I lick my lips.

He surrenders with a soft groan, pulling the fabric off his lap and spreading his legs. My own weaken and wobble—only a previously latent superpower keeps me upright as I take him in.

I had some idea of what to expect, obviously; the man’s dick print is trademarked in my head. But I wasn’t prepared for him to be so… attractive. Hard and straight and thick, his shaft juts out unapologetically from trimmed dark hair. The head is wide and flared, moisture already beading at the tip. Even his balls are appealing.

I spare a moment to feel bad for penis owners worldwide, then lift my gaze to his face.

“I stand corrected. Not a micro-peen.”

Humor touches the hunger in his eyes. My heart pattering, I move a step closer.

“No touching below the neck. And no taking over. This is my show.”

At his quick nod, I toe the pillow into position and fall to my knees between his thighs. His cock twitches like it’s saying hello.

I smother a grin. “You can talk if you want.”

Before he can say something that will topple my tenuous control, I flatten my palms on his chest and stroke downward.

All that comes out of him is a delightful whimper.

His skin is taut and warm, the hair on his lower abdomen surprisingly soft. I lean forward and place a kiss beneath his navel. His cock whacks my chest.

I find the same laughter in his eyes that brims in mine. His fades first, replaced by yearning. Endless, aching need.

“Please, Rue,” he whispers.

I dance my fingers down his clenching abdomen, then drop onto my heels. Wrapping my hands around him, I swirl my tongue across his tip, then suck lightly. He even tastes good, like a deeper, stripped-down version of his natural scent.

River gifts me with a shaky groan, half-lidded golden eyes pinned to my mouth. Flattening my tongue, I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks as I draw back. He hisses, hands fisting in the sheets, lashes fluttering.

“Fuuccck.”

I’m so enraptured by his unguarded reactions—grunts and gasps, the press of fangs into his bottom lip—that it takes several passes of my tongue for me to register something that doesn’t make sense.

Popping off him, I lift his cock and gape. Two frenum piercings form a neat rectangle of silver beads just beneath the head. The thought of them inside me is both intimidating and dangerously tempting.

“Surprise,” he croaks.

I whisper, “You really are a unicorn.”

His grunt of laughter cuts off when I suck him back into my mouth. I’d planned to tease him—torture him, really—for as long as possible, but the sight of his piercings ruined that.

Now all I want is to devour him.

I work my mouth and hands over him, up and down, swallowing each time he reaches the back of my throat. His hoarse groans fill my ears and send pulses of heat to my clit. I’m so wet my thighs are slippery. Unwilling to sacrifice either of my hands, I rock helplessly into nothing.

“Are you uncomfortable, Rue? Is that pussy throbbing for me?”