Page 70 of Devious Obsession
Now wet, her fist glides easier. She runs her thumb over the tip with every stroke, seeming entranced by it.
When my hips thrust, she stops.
“You know what I want?” she whispers, her voice so much deeper than usual.
I shake my head.
For now, I’mhercaptive. It won’t last. Our power balance will right itself again, eventually. But if this helps her…
She stands over me and pulls the boxers down her hips. I get a view up her legs to her pussy—and an even better view when she kneels again. Fuck, I want her on my mouth. So I slip between her legs and drag her down over my face.
The noise she makes is cute—and she tries to lift off me. But I’ve got her in my hold now, wrapping my hands around her thighs and urging her lower. She’s still resisting, though. Her pussy is right there. She’s wet, too. I see it, I smell it.
“Sit,” I order her, licking my lips.
“Steele—”
“I swear to God, Aspen, sit on my face right now.”
She slowly gives in, and I’m greeted with her cunt on my face. I tip my head back and lick her, groaning at the taste. She’s like candy, which is fucking weird, but I can’t explain it. I thrust my tongue into her, and she jolts. She’s tense, her hand bracing on the bed, until I get to her clit.
Then she whimpers.
I’m fucking addicted to that sound.
I do it again, and again, swirling my tongue around the sensitive nub, until she gives in and grinds against my face.
I let go of her thigh and add my hand to the party, pushing two fingers into her. She cries out and moves faster, getting herself off on my face and my fingers. My cock twitches, wanting in on the action, but I focus on the sounds she’s making above me.
All at once, she goes still. Her pussy clenches down on my fingers, pulsing, and I lick at her clit until she sags forward. She crawls off me and curls into a ball, staring at me with a mixture of hate and confusion.
I climb to my knees and fist my cock. It demands my attention, and I stroke it slowly. It’s still wet from her spit, and mine.
Her gaze lingers on my neck. The scratches she left behind are burning slightly, so I can only imagine what they look like.
“Tell me,” I order. “What do you need?”
Show me how you feel. Give me what you want.
Tell me what you need.
I’ll get to the root of her.
When she shakes her head, it isn’t good enough. It isn’t enough. I shake my head back, frowning at her. She has to know that this is our fucked-up way of making things right, of figuring out a solution. Naked. Hot. Angry.
I don’t do apologies—and neither does she.
Besides, an apology would be a lie.
“Aspen.”
Her name makes her eyes close.
“I don’t need anything from you,” she says.
I scoff. I rise, my dick still pointed straight at her. Always at her, like a fucking beacon. I knew from that first day that she was special, and hell. She is.
“Yes, you do,” I growl. I offer her my hands.
