Under Locke(169)

"Seen a lot of things in my life—"



Don't vomit, Iris.



By a lot of things, he didn't necessarily mean people.



Okay, who am I kidding, he probably did.



I wasn't going to puke. I wasn't.



"But you," his nostrils flared, "my sweet, sweet baby, have gotta be my favorite by far. I think you win first through one-hundredth place." His head dipped forward to bite at the loose cotton draped over his forearms. He slowly edged the material up with his teeth and tongue until he finagled his head beneath my sweatshirt, a solid lump above my tummy.



The tip of his tongue tapped the stud of my belly button ring briefly. His breath warmed the skin above it before he pressed his lips to the same spot, damp and gentle. Dex touched his tongue to the same place, more of a wet kiss than a lick.



"Smell so good," he murmured as his hands kneaded my hips, making me arch into him.



Looking down at him, with his face up my shirt, kissing and licking at me, I didn't think there was anything hotter in the world.



Dex kissed each side of my ribs with slow, chaste pecks. "Wish I wasn't so tired," he said, tongue tracing a line up my stomach.



Oh boy.



That wet, raspy tip stopped right between my breasts. I could see his head turn to the right, brushing a small line on the underside of my breast. His lips latched on to that inside swell, sucking it gently. Holy friggin' crap. He switched his mouth over to the other little globe and did the same.



I made noises that weren't entirely human as heat bloomed at my core.



And that's when he pulled his head out from under my shirt, planting one last quick kiss on my piercing. "Gotta shower, babe."



I choked. Was he serious?



My expression must have conveyed the what-the-friggin'-hell look on my face because he smothered a laugh by pressing his lips to my now-clothed hip. "I'm so damn tired. You don't need to stay up if you don't wanna," he said, coming to stand with his hands still beneath my shirt.



Dex flashed me another tired grin, kissing the top of my head right before he side-stepped me with a smack to my ass.



"Get some sleep," he said as if that was even an option when it felt like Niagara Falls was between my legs.



By the time I realized that he wasn't kidding, leaving me there standing like a complete moron, he'd already turned on the shower.



That dick.



I climbed into bed trying my best not to think about Dex's pleasured face the night before—all loose and relaxed with happiness mixed in there. Which then got me not thinking of how he'd looked days before that with his mouth...



Stop it.



The bed was surprisingly a lot more comfortable than my bed at Sonny's, and definitely way more than Dex's couch. I wasn't surprised when I fell asleep almost immediately after putting my head on the pillow.



And it felt like I'd barely done that when I was rolled onto my stomach, my cheek against the sheets. Warm lips and cool air tickled my spine. Two sets of fingers swept over my shoulder blades, down the twin sections of my back.



I was still half asleep as his forearm slipped between my belly and the mattress. His mouth traced over the notches of my spine. Warmth curled from the nape of my neck down to my tail bone, and instinctively, I arched my back like a cat into his touch.



Blinking sleepily, I noticed it was pitch black in the room. We must have only been asleep for a few hours at the most. The only noise came from the low hum of the air conditioner against the wall and the creaking of the bed under Dex's shifting weight as he inched his way down the mattress, arm still locked around me.



"Not tired anymore?" I whispered the question in a hoarse voice.



His low chuckle filled the room, tongue swirling a circle at the lowest point of my back. "All I needed was a little nap," he breathed right before nipping my butt cheek.



Oh man.



I may have stretched into a deeper arch, which earned me another nip on the other cheek.



Dex's free hand cupped my bottom, his long fingers spanning from the crease to nearly my hip. "This ass..." he groaned, kissing each cheek simultaneously. "Do I gotta thank all that time you spend swimmin' for it or your ma, that you got blessed with it?"



I wiggled my butt a little. "I don't know."



There was no warning for the hard crush of his arm hiking my hips up high before the tip of his tongue streaked its way down my cleft, slipping into my slit with a wet thrust.



Holy crap. Holy times a million craps.



Dex's flat tongue licked over my seam, once, twice—not enough—careful and controlled when he'd make a quick detour to dip his pointed tongue inside.



Dead, dead, dead. He was going to kill me with his mouth. And his lips.