Page 54 of Devoured By You
“Where’d you go, Tilly?”
I blinked. Blay’s brows dipped together, concern swimming in his eyes as he lowered me to the ground. Talking about my parents wasn’t something I did often, and if Blay hadn’t suggested an extended relationship past the holiday romance we’d both envisaged, then I wouldn’t talk about them now. But he had, and, oddly enough, I wanted to tell him.
“Just thinking about my mum and dad.”
His gaze roved my face as if he’d picked up on the dull tone in my voice and was trying to get a bead on the reason.
“You’re not close?”
“I haven’t seen them, or my sister, since they discovered I write romance novels. Porn, my mum called it. She gave me an ultimatum: her and my dad, or my career.” I smiled wryly.
“Fuck. That hardly feels like a fair choice.”
“My parents don’t care about fair. They care about God, and in my mother’s eyes, He wouldn’t admit me into heaven as long as I penned that ‘dreadful smut.’ Her words, not mine.”
“Ah.”
“Indeed.” I hitched a shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. Truly. I have a family. They’re called Kelsey, Addison, and Raya. They love me for the person I am, not the person they think I should be. Plus, I have many author friends, readers, my advance team, my street team. Those people are my family now.”
“Space for one more?” His crooked smile hit me in the chest, goose bumps peppering my skin.
“This has gotten awfully serious, awfully fast.”
He bobbed his head. “It has. Does that scare you?”
“A little.”
Brushing his lips over mine, he murmured, “Me, too. But if what we’re doing doesn’t scare us, it isn’t worth pursuing.”
He deepened the kiss, driving his tongue inside my mouth as his hips circled, his cock grazing exactly where I needed it. Urgency burned through my veins. I pushed my fingers into his hair, driven mad with all-consuming desire. I didn’t remember him picking me up, nor us gliding across the patio. The first sign we’d moved at all came when the water lapped at my feet. Blay plunged us, fully dressed, into the pool. I gasped, the water chilly against the blazing sun.
Wrestling with my soaking sundress, he tugged it over my head. My bra followed. I pulled down my knickers, kicking them away. Blay’s T-shirt clung to his skin, outlining every ridge of muscle.
“You’d win a wet T-shirt competition, hands down.”
He fought to remove it, growling in frustration. “I did not think this through. It was supposed to be romantic.”
“It is romantic.” I joined in his attempt to take off the shirt, then moved on to his shorts. “But this ruining my lingerie thing is becoming a habit.”
“I promise to recompense you in the form of several orgasms and an entire dresser filled with the best La Perla has to offer.”
“Deal.”
His hands encased my waist, and he hoisted me up onto the side of the pool. Pushing my thighs apart, he trained his eyes on my pussy.
“We didn’t finish lunch.” My voice sounded raw, filled with anticipation.
“You’re my favorite thing to eat, Tilly.”
Air hissed through my teeth as he licked me in one lazy sweep. I braced my forearms on the warm stone and leaned back, spreading my legs as wide as they’d go. Fuck, I hoped whoever had laid on lunch wasn’t spying on us from an upstairs room.
Blay propped my ankles on his shoulders, and from that moment on, conscious thought vanished, leaving a fiery heat that concentrated in a singular spot between my legs.
That tongue. Those fingers. His dark eyes locked on mine, watching for every reaction, adjusting the speed and pressure depending on what he saw. I lost myself, sucked into a vortex of desire until I was falling, falling, my entire being fixated on this moment.
Blay had studied giving head. He must have. No one was that accomplished at something they hadn’t done many times before. The stray thought made my stomach clench, and not in a good way. He might have proposed a continuation of our arrangement, but a man who didn’t date the same woman twice wasn’t capable of switching just like that.
Was he?