Page 23 of Coveted By Cupid

My inner slut is doing the cha-cha on my ovaries, ready for action.

“It’s only fair I get to see as much of you as you do me,” I say pointedly, eyeing his pants. “Take them off.”

“I will in good time. Let me enjoy you.”

Peeved, I raise an eyebrow. “‘In good time’? I thought we were going to fuck.”

Cupid swoops in, taking me by surprise when he kisses me again. He eases me back down on the bed and only breaks the kiss when he has me breathless and subdued.

“We will,” he says, trailing kisses along my jaw. “After I taste you.”

I freeze, remembering I worked a full eight hours. “Can’t we skip to the fun part?”

He chuckles, his teeth nipping my skin down my neck and over my collarbone. “Butterfly, this is all fun. Besides, there’s always a warm-up to the main event.”

“Cupid,” I try again, flushing with embarrassment. “I haven’t showered yet today.”

Growling, he pulls back, giving me a stern look. “Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“Self-conscious,” he answers, his gaze holding mine. “You don’t need to be with me. I don’t want to taste soap. It’s you I want to taste.”

Unsure, I bite my lip, ready to protest. “But⁠—”

“But nothing,” Cupid says sharply, cutting me off. “You’d think I’d offer to eat you out if I didn’t want this?”

“Some guys feel obligated,” I mutter, wanting the bed to swallow me whole. “I didn’t want you to do anything you didn’t want.”

Cupid blinks slowly before shaking his head. “Are you seriously mentioning other dudes while I’m lying between your legs?”

“I’m not mentioning anyone,” I say heatedly. “I’m trying to explain my experiences doing exactly this haven’t gone well when I’ve not bathed. The guys weren’t into it like they led me to believe, and they made the sex act awful.”

“Well, they—whoever the losers are—are shit lovers who blew a good thing,” Cupid says, equally heated. “I’m sorry your experiences were craptastic. Actually, no, I take that back. I’m not sorry. I’m fucking thrilled the weak little dicks before me couldn’t pleasure you the way you deserve. It means your pleasure is all mine for the taking, and I am going to take every drop that weeps out of you. It’s going to make our first time together all the better.”

My eyes go wide. First time? He can’t possibly mean he wants more than tonight, right?

I’m not sure how to feel about everything he’s shared. Part of me is staring at him with hearts in my eyes, relishing in finally hearing a man speak to me like he actually wants me. Another part of me is confused about how I’m feeling and questioning if our encounter is more than a one-night stand between strangers.

What side do I listen to?

“Get out of your head, Vanessa, and join me in the here and now,” Cupid says. He leans forward, claiming my lips again.

Letting go of the last of my resistance, I kiss him back, matching his enthusiasm and enjoying the moment as I should. My heart feels like it’s soaring, free from restrictions.

When Cupid breaks the kiss and trails down my body, I lean back, getting lost in the feverish sensation sweeping through me. He nips and licks my flesh between warm kisses from his hot mouth, leaving my body buzzing with stimulation.

His massive hand cups my left breast, still covered by my bra. I instantly want to be rid of the damn torture device, reaching behind me to unclasp it. He helps me pull it off my body, pausing while he stares intently at my chest.

Yes, I have tits, nice ones if I say so myself. But the way he’s looking at me makes me feel self-conscious.

Before I can ask him if something is wrong, Cupid reaches out with his pointer finger, tracing the ink I have on my left breast, right above my nipple.

“You have a heart with an arrow through it,” he murmurs in awe. His eyes meet mine and something feels like it snapped into place between us.

“Yes,” I say shyly. “I wanted a tattoo—a change for my new life after I left my ex. I saw it at the tattoo parlor and it felt right, reminding me that love hurts and to stay the hell away from it.”

Cupid shakes his head, not agreeing with my answer. “Maybe it felt right because your heart was telling you to wait for me.”