Page 168 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
Now, in the house, her legs trembled against mine, her hands fisted my shirt, and all of that careful control I’d been so proud of dissolved the second the door clicked shut behind us.
I brought my mouth to her ear, noting her shiver before I’d said a word. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Her breath caught. The sound barely there—just a hitch, a fraction of a second. Her fingers tightened in my shirt, and shetugged on me to close the little distance that still existed between us.
I pressed closer, one hand braced on the door beside her head, the other finding her jaw, and tilted her face up toward mine. Her eyes were dark, heavy in the dim entryway. “You’re so fucking sexy. I can’t wait to have your perfect cunt tease my cock. To have it pulse and squeeze me so hard I’ll see stars.”
Her long, low moan filled the space between us, followed by the soft thunk of her head falling back against the wooden door. Every muscle in me tightened in response. She tipped her chin up, eyes heavy, dark in a way that made my pulse kick harder. There was no hesitation in her. Just pure desire, and want so strong it consumed both of us.
This was Delaney. The same woman who had argued with me for twenty years. Who had glared at me across the room with something that had never quite been the full gamut of hate, no matter how hard we’d both pretended otherwise. Who had gotten under my skin in ways I’d spent years trying to explain away as irritation.
And now she was here—breath unsteady, lips parted, eyes soft, body already leaning into me … and I understood that beneath the wanting, that I was in serious trouble.
Not the bad kind. Not the kind you walk away from. The kind that changes things permanently. In the best way possible.
I kissed her once, slowly and deliberately. I traced my fingers along her jaw—the lightest drag—blown away knowing that she felt this, too.
Her hand cupped against the front of my jeans, and the contact burned straight through every coherent thought I had left. I moaned, not bothering to hold back. I wanted her to know how I unraveled at her touch.
She smiled—slow and satisfied—a smile that said she’d happily ruin me.
Her focus stayed on me as she worked my cock free, like she was keeping track of every fracture of my control. She pushed my pants and underwear past my hips and dropped to her knees.
A small box clunked to the floor the second she’d removed my pants.
I knew, distantly, that it mattered. A tickle at the back of my mind reached for the thought and came up empty. She picked it up and placed it on the entry. I watched her action and my mind was already forgetting about it as she turned back to me.
My head fell back on a sharp exhale as her finger lightly slid over my slit—the lightest touch possible—and then she brought it to her lips and licked it clean, watching me the whole time.
“Jesus,” I muttered, my voice rough.
Fuck me.
Delaney took her time. She traced her tongue over my hip bone first, then the head of my cock. Her hand wrapped loosely at the base, stroking in a rhythm that she seemed to be enjoying for its own sake. Likely because it was torturing me.
Her mouth teased me, licking up one side and down the other. My breath stuttered. “Damnit.”
My fingers threaded in her hair—running over her scalp the way I’d learned she loved—and her moan vibrated around my cock, soft and pleased. The sound shot to my spine. Even now like this, I needed her to feel good.
Her gaze lifted to mine.
The eye contact nearly finished me. She seemed to know it, because she chose that exact moment to take me deeper, one hand moving with a rhythm that turned my knees unsteady, and the other cupped my balls. I braced my palm flat against the door.
“You set the pace,” I managed through gritted teeth.
She nodded, then swirled her tongue around the head of my cock, with an attention to detail that made my vision blur. Shesucked me in further, and the groan that had been building in my chest came out louder than I’d intended.
Her teeth grazed over me. I was barely able to pull myself back from the edge. It was something close to a miracle as my spine tingled and the need to come gripped me.
“You look so good on your knees.” The words came out breathless. Wrecked.
She drew back far enough to say, “I have a pretty good idea you’d say that of any position I was in.” The corner of her mouth curved.
“You’re not fucking wrong.” I tightened my hold on her hair and tugged gently. “Come here.”
She let me pull her up, and I kissed her once—hard—tasting myself on her lips, my hands cupping her face.
I walked her toward the bedroom. She grinned against my mouth the whole way, and something about that—her joy, her ease, the way she was fully and completelyherewith me—cracked something open inside my chest. I already knew what was in there. Had known for a while, if I was being honest with myself.
