I WAIT for Summer’s reply, everything inside of me seizing up in anticipation. She’ll most likely tell me to fuck off. I’d deserve it. After everything I’ve put her through when we did spend time together, and then tricking her to see me tonight, she should tell me to fuck off once and for all and that will be the end of it.
I’d deserve it.
Fucking Monty and that dress. He played fairy godmother with my money and dressed Summer in something so fucking sexy I can barely see straight, let alone think rationally. My hands itch to touch her. Drag the mesh up her mostly naked body and run my mouth all over her soft skin. Lick that delicious little pussy of hers. Drive her wild with my tongue until she’s coming all over my face.
My cock twitches at the thought. At the memories. Her scent all over my face and fingers. Watching her lick my fingers after she came. Shoving my cock into her welcoming mouth. We were fucked up in the worst possible way, but we understood each other. It came naturally for us, the darkness. The fucked-up thoughts and words. I originally wanted to punish her for what her mother did to my family, and instead I did the fucking craziest thing.
I went and fell in love with her.
Not that I can say those words. She’d laugh in my face. And maybe she’d be right to do that. I have no idea what love is. My parents never acted like a loving couple. They merely tolerated each other throughout most of their marriage. If they were ever free and happy and in love, it was during a time I wasn’t there yet, or I don’t remember it.
Summer drove me out of my mind with lust, but she also…softened me. Made me smile. Made me happy, damn it. An emotion I didn’t believe I was capable of feeling.
Only she did that for me. And I haven’t felt that way since she walked out of my life.
Not once.
“Are we not having dessert?” Summer asks out of nowhere, completely ignoring what I just said.
Her gaze is on the empty table, her journal lying there, mocking the both of us. This all started because of that stupid journal. If I could, I’d burn it. But maybe she wants it. She might feel safer with it in her possession, and I’ll give her that safety. I’ll give her whatever she wants, as long as she’ll agree to continue seeing me.
All she has to do is ask.
“I thought you could be dessert,” I say, my tone light, my thoughts dark.
Her dark eyes light up as she studies me, her expression wary. “What do you mean?”
Like she doesn’t know.
“Let me show you.” I take a step toward her and she presses her back against the window, wincing from the cold glass. I can hear the wind blow outside. “Do you not trust me?”
“No,” she responds immediately.
I take another step closer, discreetly inhaling her fragrance. “I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to.”
Her eyes widen at that last bit and I can’t help but smile.
“Do you want me to?” I reach for her, drifting my fingers down the front of her dress, deliberately touching her warm, smooth skin. “Or do you want me to make you come?”
“Do you think you still can?” she asks, her voice shaky.
“Is that a challenge?” I raise a brow. She doesn’t respond. “Let me show you what I can do for you.”
I shift her away from the window and press her against the wall with my body, crowding her, pinning her in place. She’s taller with the heels on, practically at eye level and I keep my gaze locked with hers as I reach for the hem of her dress. Slowly I lift it, past her hips, until it’s bunched at the waist, the lower half of her body completely exposed.
Pulling away slightly so I can look at her, I take note of her long, glowing legs, the flesh- colored thong she’s wearing. She’s thinner than I remember her, her hip bones jutting, her stomach so flat, it’s almost concave. I touch her there, feel the slight tremble of her skin.
“Do you never eat? You’re skin and bones,” I whisper, my fingers traveling to her left hip, stroking her there.
“I’m busy,” she admits. “I don’t have time.”
“If you were with me, I’d make sure you’d eat,” I tell her, skimming my fingers back and forth across her stomach, my finger dipping into her navel. “I’d feed you breakfast in bed. All the fresh croissants and butter you could ever want.”
“I’d be fat.”
“Fat and beautiful.” I lean my face in closer to hers, our lips almost touching. “I would do whatever you wanted as long as it pleased you.”
“Really.” Her voice is flat. Clearly, she doesn’t believe me.
“Yes.” I barely kiss her lips and pull away, her mouth following after mine, making me smile. “Come with me.”
I take her hand and lead her over to the table, plucking the journal off and tossing it onto the floor. It lands with a loud thwap, making Summer jump.
“Get on the table,” I tell her, my voice low.
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I want you spread out, on the table.” I go to her, wrapping my hands around her waist and lifting her so she’s sitting on the edge. “Go on,” I tell her after I let her go. “Lie back.”
She glances behind her before returning her gaze to mine. “Why?”
“I told you why,” I say, impatient. “You’re dessert.”
“Whit, I don’t know—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I grab the back of her head and lower my mouth to hers, delivering a punishing kiss to her welcoming lips. She opens to me immediately, a low moan sounding from deep in her throat, her tongue dancing with mine. She wants this. Wants me. All the protesting and complaining is a front. A ruse.
She can pretend all she wants, but we were made for this.
Made for each other.
We kiss for long minutes. Tongues tangling, teeth nipping, lips eager and hungry. I push her farther back on the table, so she’s sitting almost in the middle of it, her legs dangling off the edge. I break the kiss, the both of us breathing heavily, watching each other, our chests rising and falling in time.
“Lie back,” I demand roughly and this time she doesn’t hesitate or argue. She leans back, resting on her elbows, her gaze still connected with mine.
“Like this?” she asks, spreading her thighs a little wider, offering me a teasing glimpse of her thong just beneath the mesh.
“Exactly like that.” I reach for the hem of her dress once more, shoving it up, over her waist, her breasts. “Take it off.”
She sits up and rids herself of the dress, sitting before me in just her panties. I want them off too, but I’ll take care of it soon enough.
“Beautiful,” I murmur as I reach for her breasts, weighing them in my palms, brushing my thumbs across her hardened nipples. A sigh leaves her as she thrusts her chest toward me, and I stroke her sensitive skin. Dip my head to snake my tongue out and lick. One nipple. Then the other. She trembles, the table legs rattling beneath her and I hope to fuck we don’t send the table crashing down.
Talk about ruining the mood.
Her breasts, her pretty pink nipples beckoning, glistening from my mouth. I suck one in deep, tonguing it, pulling on it with my lips, drinking from her. She grasps the back of my head with one hand, holding me to her as I suck. Lick and tease. We’ve barely started and I can’t get enough of her.
Will I ever?
I lavish the same attention on her other breast before I start a journey down the length of her body. Running my mouth across her stomach, her hip bones. The flat plane beneath her belly button. I can smell her cunt, the rich, musky scent reaching my nostrils and making my mouth water for a taste of her.
God, it’s been too long since I’ve had her. My cock is so hard it fucking hurts, but I’m not going to do anything about it.
This moment, right now, is all about her.
“Whit,” she whispers as I trace my tongue along the top of her panties.
I glance up to find her watching me. “Yes?”
“Take them off,” she demands, her voice quivering.
I smile. Run my tongue across the front of her drenched panties, making her whimper. “You’re not the one in control of this situation right now, are you?”
“Please,” she whispers as I continue to lick and nip at her. The thong’s fabric is whisper-thin, almost as if I’m actually touching her skin, but not quite. The barrier adds something to the moment, and I’m not ready to be rid of it yet.
“You’re not enjoying this?” I ask before I lap at her, my tongue flat against her throbbing flesh.
She hisses out a breath, her eyes falling closed as I continue to eat at her. I remember why I wanted to be in this room in the first place and I pull away from her, glancing up to see the mirror hanging above us. Her sprawled on the table, her legs wide, her beautiful body on display. Her head is cut off. I can’t see that gorgeous face, or all the frustrated fury on it, and I wish I could.
“Look up,” I whisper and she does as I ask, her eyes going wide when she notices. “Watch me.”
