Page 50 of Devious Obsession
13
ASPEN
Iwake up in Steele’s bed. I know this because we’re going to have to work on his pillows. And I’m cold, which hasn’t been a problem in my own bed, simply because of the amount of blankets I keep available. We’re going to have to work on that, too, if he expects me to stay.
Anyway, it’s also sort of hard to forget that when I got tired, he led me away from the party and brought me upstairs. He gave me the key to his room, pulled out a toothbrush still in the packaging from a drawer in the shared bathroom, and then went back downstairs. To places unknown.
Leaving me alone… which couldn’t have come at a better time.
I go to roll, but a hand on my stomach stops me.
My eyes open fully. I’m still in his fucking jersey, but the fabric is collected just under my tits.
And Steele’s head is between my legs.
He’s not touching me, though. My thighs are spread, his shoulders a hair’s breadth away, and he seems to be… staring?
Counting the flaws?
His hand is hot on my stomach, and it occurs to me that this is why I’m cold. Because his comforter and sheet are forgotten off to the side, tossed off me with little regard.
“What are you doing?”
“Waiting for you to wake up.” His voice is low and husky, mirroring my own. “So I can give you a good morning kiss.”
“I—”
He leans forward. His lips touch mine. Well,minebeing the set between my legs. Only his hand on my stomach keeps me from shooting away from him. He leans back and smirks.
“Maybe a French kiss,” he suggests. “You know how they do it. Lots of tongue.”
“Steele, no—”
But then his mouth is on me again, and his tongue swipes through my center. Over my sore clit. Little electric bolts zip through me, and I grip his hair. I yank him up enough to make eye contact again.
“Stop fighting, Aspen.” He rolls his eyes. “This is supposed to make you feel good.”
“Yeah, but it just feels like you’re making fun of me.” I release his hair and drop back flat, exhaling heavily. I didn’t mean to say that. Sleep—or lack thereof, since I think I only caught a few hours—is clearly messing with my judgment. “Or you’re just offering it so I suck you off or something.”
He frowns. “Why would you say that?”
“Previous experience?”
His frown gets deeper, and he crawls up my body. I exhale when he drops down on top of me. “Let me get this straight. Some guy tried to go down on you, did a shitty job that made you not like it, and then asked for a blow job?”
I nod carefully.
“And did he come in your mouth?”
I shift, then nod.
His mood seems to visibly darken. “Okay, well, we’re fixing that right now.”
“Steele…” My voice is a warning.
Which he ignores.
He scoots back down and nestles between my legs like it’s his favorite position. He slips his hands under my thighs, gripping them and holding them open. I rise on my elbows to watch him, forgetting about everything I’d learned about making myself smaller.
