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Twisted(49)

By:Cari Quinn


“You’re awake.” He sounded so pleased by that fact that she almost forgot her question until his smile turned wicked. “Sure you want to know why I picked that one?”

Now she wanted to know more than ever. “Yes. Tell me.”

He set aside his guitar and leaned forward, brushing his mouth over her ear. “You smell like burnt sugar. Taste like it too. Sweet and sticky all over my tongue. I’m going to write a song.” He licked the side of her neck and she shuddered. “But in the meantime, ‘Brown Sugar’ works.”

“You’re a dirty boy.” Another laugh bubbled up in the middle of all the goosebumps. “I like it.”

Expression playful, he sank his teeth into her bottom lip. “Oh honey, you have no idea.”

“But I’m ready to find out.”

“We’ll see about that.” The corner of his lip curled into that naughty smile she’d wanted to kiss since she’d first laid eyes on him. Now she could.

She could do anything she wanted with him. To him.

Accurately reading her thoughts, he tugged her on top of him, embedding his hand in her hair while the other coasted down her back to her ass. He cupped one cheek, hoisting her leg higher so that her slit flirted with the head of his prominent morning wood.

“Good morning to me,” she teased, dipping her tongue into the laugh lines beside his mouth.

“Mmm-hmm. And I’m about to have breakfast.”

He hoisted her up his body, making her squeal. He clamped his mouth between her legs, his tongue arrowing along where she’d already grown hot and damp. Just kissing him and crawling around on his body were enough to get her motor humming. But his teeth scraping lightly over her hood piercing represented a surefire booking pass to orgasm central.

She fisted his hands in his hair and wobbled as he pressed the tip of his tongue inside, scooping up her wetness and swallowing with such audible appreciation that she couldn’t fight a blush. God, this man. How could she love him this much and not just shatter from it?

Everything seemed possible with hazy morning sunshine just beginning to trickle into the room, bathing the space in a romantic pink glow. Strong hands held her still, forcing her to take every bit of the pleasure he offered. He slid one hand around to part her folds, holding them open to lash her piercing and her clit with such focused attention that she scrambled backward and caught hold of his thighs to maintain her balance.

Bent backward, on the verge of a moan or a laugh—maybe both—she looked down to find that stormy gaze caressing her naked body. Suddenly she saw herself the way he must. Breasts lifted, nipples beaded and pink. Stomach quivering with every erotic kiss.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

She feathered her fingers through his hair, slipping her hand down until it skimmed his mouth. Until her fingers trailed over his on her flesh. He kissed the tip of her thumb, sucking on it so slowly that a shudder rolled through her. “Oh God. I’m going to—”

Her cell went off, playing the Top Chef theme song that was Harper’s ringtone.

“Jesus. What the hell is that?”

“Oh shit, oh fuck, I forgot. It’s morning.” She tried to scuttle backward along Gray’s torso, but he wasn’t having it. He locked his arms around her thighs and did some kind of roll with his tongue that set off tingles all the way down to her G-spot. “Harper,” she wailed as the phone went off and immediately started again.

“We’re busy. She can wait.”

“But I have her catering truck—”

“And I have your pussy, and I’m not done with it yet. So shh before you make me get rough.” The teasing glint in his eyes accompanied his finger flick on her clit piercing.

Then he slipped his tongue inside her again, and she couldn’t hold back her scream as he rotated her piercing in time with his excruciatingly slow mouth-fucking. He hummed in his throat and pressed on while Harper called a third time, clearly frantic.

Jazz was frantic too, for a whole other reason.

She snatched a handful of his thick, silky long hair and pulled, bearing down on his mouth without shame. He used his free hand to knead her ass, encouraging her to ride his face with abandon. There was no way she could stop now. She slipped her other hand over her breasts, tweaking her nipples as the liquid sensation in her belly turned to drowning heat.

“God, keep going.” She squeezed her knees beside his head, rocking for all she was worth. “I’m so close.” Moving over him faster, she closed her eyes and threw her head back, twisting her nipple. Almost at the crescendo. She cried out as her core contracted and scalding waves of pleasure suffused her body, going on way past the point of insanity.