She’s so gorgeous, all soft and pliant, but I didn’t come here for that.
“This is the most agreeable I’ve ever seen you,” I say in a hushed voice, not wanting to wake her yet needing to talk to her. I feel entirely content and happy right now, and I’m not sure that’s happened in a really long time.
She mumbles something, and a little frown knits her brow. I hold back a laugh. She’s probably going off on me in her dream. Don’t call me babe.
I won’t, and maybe, just maybe, I can get her to go out with me—for real, not any of this pretend bullshit.
I shift so the arm she’s lying on slides more fully around her.
She sighs when I lean down to smell her hair.
Another mumble and then she chuckles—actually laughs.
“What are you snickering about, sleep talker?” I ask her.
“Take off your shirt.” Her hands tangle in my hair. “I want to see your dragon tattoo.”
“Your wish is my command,” I say, easing her out of the way to lift my tight black running shirt off over my head.
Her lashes flutter as she opens her eyes. “What are you doing?”
I shrug. “You ordered me to take my shirt off. Happy to oblige.”
She straightens herself, scooting her bottom up until our faces are closer. “I did? I must have been half asleep.”
“Just following orders.”
“Oh,” she says as she pats at her hair and throws a glance around the room, squinting as she takes in the time on the desk clock.
“It’s three in the morning. I watched a few episodes of that crazy-ass show. There are some sick characters. I like it,” I say, tossing my shirt on the floor and turning back to her wide gaze. “Feels as if we’re the only people alive in the world right now.”
Her blue eyes are on my chest and before I know it, her hand is there, tracing the lines of my tattoo, brushing soft strokes along the outline, trailing down to my bicep where the tail curls around my upper arm.
“That feels good,” I murmur.
“It’s the most beautiful dragon I’ve seen on skin. I love the orange and red flames and his scales. Tell me the story of the tattoo,” she says. “You promised.”
“You like tattoos?”
She nods, blushing. “I have a lily inside a cameo on my back—for my mom. Lily was her name.”
“I never saw it.”
“We haven’t actually been completely naked together.” She brushes her fingers across the red and yellow fire that comes from the dragon’s mouth, and I hold back the shudder inside me. My hands clench on the sheets, keeping myself from jumping on top of her.
Fuck.
I can’t stop the words that come out of my mouth.
“Let me make you come again and I’ll tell you all about my dragon.”
Her chest rises as she inhales quickly. She licks her wine-colored lips, and I lean down and nip at them.
She gasps into my mouth and it’s the opening I need, delving into her hot, wet depths, my tongue vying with hers.
“Z,” she moans, her hands pulling me closer. She gives back as good as I give and I go from a soft kiss to full-on fucking her with my tongue.
“Why can’t we stop doing this?” she moans.
“Why do you want to stop?”
“I don’t—that’s the problem.”
“I want you so much,” I say breathily as I nip and kiss down her throat before moving her jacket aside, slipping my tongue under the straps of her tank top, and licking her skin. There’s a small mole next to her breast and I kiss it and inhale her scent, committing it to memory.
“Tell me about the tattoo,” she says, and I laugh as I take her nipple in my mouth and suck. It’s still swollen from earlier, and I’m gentle, nibbling with my teeth and then soothing it by flicking it with my tongue.
“Please, Z,” she murmurs, and I can barely breathe, let alone talk, but I do my best as my hands strip her out of her jacket. Pushing the neckline of her tank top under her boobs, I groan. She arranges her hair around her tits and gazes up at me, biting that lower lip. I can’t even think straight. She’s…she’s got me in the palm of her hand and she doesn’t even know it.
I lean over and kiss her stomach, my tongue dipping inside her belly button as I toy with her piercing, laving it with attention. “Freshman year, I got the tattoo in Minneapolis.” I kiss her hipbone and her birthmark, sucking on her skin. “As it happened…I needed some courage that year…hope, maybe. I didn’t believe in much. I lost a lot, my mom and someone else I cared about.”
I grow tense at the thought of Willow, but I push it aside. It’s a conversation for another time, another place. Not here. Not now.
“Oh.” She breathes out.
My fingers play with the lace on her underwear, dipping one finger in and then coming back out. She gyrates against my hand, trying to get me to touch her again, but I hold back, plucking at the hem of her panties.
“He’s very fierce…your dragon,” she says, gazing down at me.
I flick my tongue over her piercing again. “My dragon has horns, which means he’s at the top of the pile, the best—like me. He symbolizes protection and power. He’s fearsome and makes either a wonderful ally or a fierce enemy.”
“Ally,” she begs, shuddering as I slide my finger inside her for a quick pump. Her hips rise off the bed for more, but I resist. “Z, do that again. Please.”
Shit, just the need in her voice makes me crazy. I ease her panties off, and her legs part as I slide down, my mouth following, kissing her skin, getting to know every inch of her that I’ve missed before.
My tongue plays with her little clit and she grabs my hair. I keep talking. “Most people have heard stories about the knight slaying the dragon and winning the love of the people, like Beowulf, which is a poem I love, by the way.” I look up at her and she’s writhing at the loss of my mouth. “It’s a bloodthirsty, epic piece and sounds like something you’d like.” I lick her slowly, tasting her essence. “Have you read it, Sugar?”
“Yes, yes, it’s…great. Maybe…we can read it again later.” She wiggles against my mouth, and I laugh against her skin.
“But my dragon isn’t like Grendel from the story. He’s in his own league.”
Her throat works convulsively. “I don’t doubt it. Don’t stop talking.”
I smile and blow on her sex, my fingers slipping inside. My mouth draws filigrees on her skin as I talk in between strokes. “It took me three trips to get the full dragon. All that pain, all that work…and when I look at it, I think about my goals. Being the best. Being number one. Being the one who makes you come.” I suck her hard nub and finger her and her body quakes, her breathing loud in the quiet of the room.
“Z!” she calls out as she shudders around me.
“That’s it,” I growl.
Her body tugs on my fingers, taking them further inside her.
I press a kiss to her center, removing my fingers and stroking her inner thighs until her tremors subside. It takes several seconds and her breathing slows, her hips and body slowly relaxing back onto the mattress.
On legs that shake, I stand up at the foot of the bed and strip out of my running pants and black underwear. I stare down at my cock bobbing, needing her.
She eases up on her elbows, eyes wide. I palm myself and walk over to her.
23
Sugar
I can’t stop looking at his manhood. It’s huge and swollen, and I know exactly how tight it fits inside me
“You like my stick?”
I snort. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Oh, you’re not only a sex machine but a mind reader too?”
“Sex machine? I like that. Go on, please. Tell me more—and use that deep Southern accent when you say it.”
A laugh bubbles up but fades away when his hand cups my cheek, his thumb stroking across my lips, tugging on them. I bite his index finger then take it into my mouth and suck. He curls his other hand around my nape.
A shuddering breath comes from him. “Do you have condoms?”
Breathless, I nod, tilting my head toward the desk. “Top drawer.”
His back is to me, and I take the opportunity to rove my eyes over his rippling muscles, watching the way they glide when he moves.
I hear the familiar jingle of keys outside my door.
Julia!
No, no, no!
I jump out of bed and throw myself at him. “Z, oh, shit, hide. I think my roommate is here.”
Looking over his shoulder at me, he gives me a sardonic eyebrow. “And this is a problem?”
I swat him on the arm just as I hear a muffled curse and the sound of metal hitting tile outside. She must have dropped her keys. Yes.
“First of all,” I hiss, “you’re naked as the day you were born, and I have no underwear on. Second, we all know you can charm the dew off a honeysuckle, but you can’t charm her. She hates hockey players—”
“You’re ashamed of me?” His tone is incredulous. “Have to say, this is a first.”
“I just don’t like people knowing my business.” I’m hustling him to the closet as I speak. “Plus I have no clue where your clothes are right now!” He points to a pile near the end of the bed so I reach over and toss them at his chest. “Get in my closet.”