Page 48 of Never His Girl
The hatred inside me bleeds from my pores and I’m only certain he feels it when he speaks again.
“I swear to you, Southside. I’m trying to fix it.”
This is the promise spoken against my ear. It’s whispered just before I feel his tongue against my neck, and then there’s the dizzying sensation of feverish sucking. I’m certain he’s leaving his mark, and I’m also sure that’s intentional.
He’ll fix it. That vow is one that should go in one ear and out the other, but instead, I want him to prove me wrong, want him to show me he means it.
He places me on the sheet and my robe’s already fallen off both shoulders. I slip out of it completely and there’s enough heat and tension in this room to suffocate. And as for what I’m feeling, I’m doused with equal parts hatred and need.
Both aimed straight at West, and he takes it all.
Staring down my body, my eyes land on him, where he stands naked at the foot of the bed. Every breath I take is ragged, labored. His chest moves rapidly, and I bite my lip until it aches, literallyfeelinghis gaze as it lowers to my stomach. Half a second later, his hand lands there, moving over the piercing in my navel, then between my legs. Air rushes into my mouth, hissing through my teeth.
Why are you here?
Why are you doing this?
Why can’t you stay away and let me hate you in peace?
The mattress shifts when he climbs on top of me, kissing me so slow and deep my eyes roll back in my head. Both heels dig into the backs of his thighs, encouraging him to enter me, and I’m so far gone I don’t even consider protection. I’m never that impatient. But when West doesn’t budge, I assume this is the reason he’s hesitant.
Those powerful, inked arms of his keep him hovering above me, as our mouths move in perfect sync. As his tongue does a series of skilled pirouettes over mine that have my need for him surging even more.
I want to push again, want to draw him in with my heels like I attempted before, but I’m a bit more sensible this time.
“Condom,” I murmur against his mouth.
He’s ready, rock-hard against me, yet he shows no sign of urgency, no sign he intends to let me have my way.
“Don’t need one,” he says, taking his lips away.
I’m confused as hell where he thinks this is going without protection, but I stop questioning it so much when his mouth moves to my neck, and then to my chest. He pauses, slowly teasing one nipple with the tip of his tongue, before drawing it into his mouth. Then, there’s a playful nip to my belly ring when he journeys there next, tugging the tiny, metal rod with his teeth. The sensation has my back arching toward him, and I arch again when the soft, wet heat of his lips travels to the base of my stomach.
A shallow gasp leaves my mouth when he dares to wander just a little lower, finally reaching his intended destination. It’s in that very second that electricity sparks from someplace deep within me. So powerfully I nearly clamp West’s jaw with my thighs. I likely would have if it weren’t for him gently holding them open, keeping me relatively still while exploring me with his tongue.
My eyes roll back again, wanting to close, but I keep them open, watching obsessively in the mirrored ceiling as he makes his point. He wants me to grasp the meaning of tonight’s lesson, that he canshowme how he feels better than he cantellme.
I swear my entire body lifts off the bed when I arch toward him, feeling like I’ve completely lost touch with reality, risen to some alternate plane of existence. My heart’s never raced faster than it’s racing right now, and I’m out of my head, hearing my thoughts become words as they spill from within me. But the jumble of words leaves my mouth as one whispered expression:
“Shit…”
The response is enough to make West remove both hands from my thighs to slip them beneath my ass. Now, it’s impossible to claw my way up the sheet to escape when the feeling becomes too intense. Instead, I’m forced to endure the full-body convulsions that follow as I explode with pleasure, so raw I swear I’m on the brink of blacking out.
“West!”
I reach down, tangling my fingers in his hair, struggling for even an ounce of air. There is none, and I drown in this powerful sensation he’s brought on so suddenly, spreading from my core, and then overtaking me completely.
All at once, I shift from being so tightly wound my muscles ache, to fatigue hitting me hard and fast when it ends. Aftershocks have me quivering all over and I can’t move. Not even when a soft kiss placed on my inner thigh sends butterflies fluttering straight to the pit of my stomach. He stands after that and I’m transfixed on his perfect reflection from above, watching as he makes his way onto the bed. A second later, I feel his heat against my torso, his hardness against my hip.
He has staked his claim, more than proven his point.
“Should I leave?” he rasps, that deep tone of his sparking another of those aftershocks.
I have an answer, but pride won’t let me give it. So, instead, I simply reach for the remote on the bedside table that controls the candles. I turn them off completely, plunging us into darkness, answering his question by drawing the blanket over us both.
When I turn into his chest, his arms slip around me like this is how it’s always been, how it always will be.
I fully intend to scold myself for giving in to him so epically, but sleep overtakes me before I even get the chance.