Sinner's Revenge(29)

“I lied. Hurry up while the commercials are on.” She grins up at me, her eyes flashing with mischief.

I slam the recliner shut with my feet, and the jerk of the chair causes her to wince and hold her side. I match her evil grin with my own. “Oops.”

“I hate you,” she calls as I make my way to the kitchen.

“I hate you more,” I yell over my shoulder. And really, I do.

By the third episode of Gunsmoke, Diem is laying across my chest. My arm is around her waist, her legs are tangled with mine, and we’re both finally comfortable. She looks up at me, her eyes shining with curiosity beneath her long, dark lashes.

“Kiss me.” My eyebrows raise in question. “Kiss me. Like you did that night in the bar.”

“Why?” I ask, feeling my blood rush faster to my cock.

“Because I want you to.”

I smirk. “No.”

She leans her head back further against my shoulder, her lips nearly touching my cheek. “Please?” Did she seriously just say please? Or was I hearing shit?

“I like when you beg,” I say, my gaze drifting from her lips to her eyes and back.

“Please, Zeke. Just kiss me.” She’s serious. And I’m hardening. Maybe she’ll beg for that too.

Cradling her face with my hand, my thumb runs over the fading bruise under her eye. Sliding my hand down her neck, I hold it, my mouth barely grazing over hers. “Like this?” I ask, planting a soft kiss on her parted lips.

“More,” she whispers, trying to move her mouth closer. But I move my hand to her throat, applying a little pressure to keep her where I want her.

My mouth covers hers, kissing her a little harder. When she parts her lips, I pull back. “Like that?”

“A little more,” she breathes, and I can feel her pulse quickening. Drawing a lazy circle around her lips with my tongue, she moans. As soon as it escapes her, I give her the kiss I know she wants. She tastes like ice cream and Diem. I never knew chocolate and watermelon were such a delicious combination.

She becomes limp in my arms, all but her hand that fists in my shirt. I grab her knee, moving it over my cock. When she feels it beneath my jeans, her moan deepens. Trailing my fingers up her thigh, I guide them beneath her shirt, caressing the smooth skin with my fingertips. Keeping my mouth on hers, I slip my hand into her panties, and she pushes against me, begging me to touch her.

The feel of her bare pussy against my fingers isn’t enough. So I part her lips, feeling the wet heat on my middle finger as I drag it up to her clit. Rubbing it in slow circles, I look down at her as her head falls back, breaking our kiss completely.

A guttural moan rips from her, and it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Her mouth is open, her eyes squeezed shut, and every few seconds, her breath catches in her throat. She is the epitome of sexy. Slowly, I drop my finger lower, shoving it inside her—groaning when I feel how wet and satiny her walls feel around me.

I can smell the sweet scent of her arousal from beneath her panties. If it’s intoxicating from here, I can only imagine what it must be like with my nose buried in her pussy. My tongue thrusting in and out of her—tasting her . . . drinking her . . . fucking devouring her.

I can’t fuck her. She’s too hurt and I’m too anxious to trust myself to take it slow. I know that watching her come will give me the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had. But I can’t deny her. Not now. So I work my magic with my hands, and soon, she’s coming in my arms. She doesn’t jerk or spasm like I expect, she simply goes limp—her entire body relaxing as she lets out a slow moan on a breath.

It’s like I’ve just lifted the weight of the world off her shoulders. Like I’m the world’s greatest drug—guaranteed to escape her from reality. Or, at least my fingers are. I cup her pussy in my hand, leaning down to kiss the hollow of her throat before sliding it out of her panties, up her stomach, and finally to her tits.

Fuck, they feel so good. I squeeze them gently, rubbing my thumb across her nipple as I wait for her to break through the fog. She’s still breathing slowly, every once in a while letting out a soft moan. She’s limp, spent, and sated. I still my hand, but the little moans continue and it doesn’t take me long to realize she’s asleep.

“You’re welcome,” I mutter, easing the recliner shut and standing with her in my arms. Figures I’d get the shitty end of this deal. Not only will I have to jerk off, but now I have to carry her ass to bed too. If I could put her to sleep this fast with my fingers, she’d be fucking comatose if I showed her what I could do with my tongue. I smirk at the thought.