Page 42 of Marked By Tank
“Yeah.”
Her fingers fly into my hair before I even touch her, like some part of her already knows what I am about to do and cannot decide whether to brace or beg.
“First time?” I ask quietly.
Heat rushes across her face.
She nods.
I go still for one beat. Just enough to make sure.
“Anybody ever touched you like this?”
She shakes her head.
Something black flickers through me. Fast. Violent. Mean.
I bury it.
I kiss the inside of her thigh instead. Slow. Then the other one. Letting her feel my mouth there, letting her shake for the right reasons this time.
“You let me know if anything feels wrong,” I tell her. “You hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Words, angel.”
“Yes,” she says, breath unsteady. “I hear you.”
Good girl.
The words rise right to the back of my teeth. I keep them there.
Barely.
I hook my fingers in the sides of her panties and look up at her again.
She is breathing hard now. Pink all over. Watching me like she is scared and wanting and trusting all at once.
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
I slide the panties down her legs and toss them aside.
Then I put my mouth on her.
The sound she makes goes straight to my cock.
I hold her thighs and keep going. Slow at first. Then slower. Learning her. Watching what each flick of my tongue does to her body. Which touch makes her gasp. Which one makes her knees threaten to give. Which one gets my name to fall out of her mouth in that thin, wrecked whisper that makes me want to ruin us both.
Her pussy tastes like heat and want and something sweet under it, and I could stay there all damn night if the way she is shaking in my hands is any sign.
“Tank,” she cries softly.
“I know, angel.”
I don’t stop.
