Page 70 of Haunt the Mall
“I like all of them,” he said, palming my thigh.
“Oh.” My skin simmered under his fingertips. “You like all of me, huh? Even my toes?” I pawed at him with my foot.
“Yes.” He squeezed my leg and blinked affectionately. Did he like all of me? All he knew so far, at least.
My heart raced. “You haven’t even seen them.”
He shrugged. “So, show me.”
I giggled and sat up. “What if they stink?”
“I’ll still like them.” He rubbed a reassuring circle on my back.
Fuck, I really liked him. Getting naked would be easy. Telling him my feelings…that’d be truly scary.
I rolled my socks down to my ankles. “You know, I actually pictured our first time with more clothes on.”
“You did?”
“Well, we would’ve been in the theater. We couldn’t risk someone waltzing in to witness all that sexiness.” I stretched my leg in front of him. “See? Check out these ankles.”
“So indecent,” he growled, grabbing my leg. He nibbled and kissed along it.
I cackled and pushed him away.
“Wait, I still need to see your toes,” he protested.
“No. You still have your pants on.” I sat cross-legged and quirked my eyebrow at him. He could see my tits. I wanted to see some ass.
He chuckled and pushed his hair back. “Sounds like we should both strip.”
“And shower.” I scratched his deliciously stretched stomach. Part of me wanted to drag my teeth across his hip bones and suck the sheen of sweat off his skin. But then I’d want to fuck again, and I’d already had two orgasms. If I got a third, I’d be walking funny tomorrow. Plus, I’d never want him to leave. I had shibari rope and fuzzy handcuffs stashed away if I needed to tie him up. But what if I wanted him to use those on me? Keeping him forever was already too tempting.
I took his hand and led him to my bathroom amid our muffled footfall. While he disposed of the condom, I turned on the shower. The spray sputtered, then steadied, the metal shower head puncturing holes in my reflection.
I gasped at the black smudges on my distorted face.
Shit, my makeup. I wiped my under-eyes with my fingers. Waterproof, my ass. Was it not enough to cry during an orgasm? Now, I had to wear the evidence?
“Ugh, I really do look like a zombie,” I muttered.
Victor laid a sharp smack on my ass.
Shrieking, I whipped around. What was that for?
He pinched my chin and stepped so close I was forced to look up at him. “Don’t disparage my bride,” he rumbled. Eyes glinting, he dragged his thumb across my bottom lip.
Flames burst in my chest, and before I could stop myself, I licked his fingertip.
Why? For what? I was a depraved weirdo, a sex maniac. Or at least the beast breaking out of my chest acted like it. I wanted to suck on every inch of him. I needed to throw myself under scalding water until this unbearable desire melted away.
Victor’s eyebrows shot up. Then, he laughed. His delighted, dark gaze stoked my pride.
I licked my lips. “Sorry, Sir. Won’t happen again.”
He smirked. “If it does, I expect you’ll be fine with punishment.”
Oh, fuck. I rubbed my thighs together and smiled. “As long as there’s aftercare.”