Dirty (Dive Bar #1)(64)

“Yes, it was.” With a heavy sigh I rolled onto my side, facing him. There might come a day in a thousand years or so when the sight of him didn’t move me. I doubt it, though. He addled my brain and made the butterflies inside me come to life. What effect he had on my heart, I didn’t even want to ponder.

“I think it shocked me.” There was such honesty in his eyes, in his unguarded expression. “I’ve always been careful about protection. Always. Dad lectured me constantly about it and growing up, I saw friends become fathers way ahead of their time. Then there’s all the STDs. But last night with you…”

“You were upset, Vaughan.”

“Yeah.” He stared into my eyes, giving me a sad smile. “You look tired. Lie down, I’ll get the light.”

I didn’t ask him if he was staying or retreating to his own room. Being needy annoyed the crap out of me. We didn’t have that kind of relationship. He rolled off the bed and flicked off the light. Then he wandered out into the hallway. One by one, the other lights in the house disappeared and full darkness crept in. Heavy footsteps came my way and then the mattress squeaked as he sat at the end.

That wasn’t relief rolling through me. It was something else. Something complicated and beyond my control.

The palms of his hands slid up over my bare legs, all the way up to my panties, where they lingered with obvious intent.

“Vaughan.”

“I want to get you off.” He traced delicate lines over my stomach, making my muscles clench with need. “Please.”

“I don’t know…”

“Just you. Nothing for me,” he said, hooking his fingers in my underwear and slowly dragging them down my legs. “Let me go down on you, Lydia. I want to make amends.”

“I’m not sure making someone perform oral sex should be used as a method of punishment. The ethics are a bit icky.” Yeah, I was fighting him hard.

Gently, he pushed my legs open, kneeling between them. “Babe, licking your pretty * is a treat. Not getting a piece of you afterward is the punishment.”

I laughed. “Treat. A piece of me. You make me sound like pie.”

Without further ado, he licked straight up my center. From my butt to my clit and back again. An amazing rush, a whole new kind of intoxication, raced through me. My spine arched, jaw falling open. “Fuck.”

“You’re sweet enough to be pie,” he mumbled, fixing his mouth to my labia and softly sucking. His nose nuzzled the area around my clit, hot breath stirring over all of that delicate flesh. Every ounce of blood in me rushed to the call of his mouth. My head spun, my body light, incandescent. He sucked and licked and savored me like a feast.

It was breathtaking.

The man knew his stuff, driving my excitement to scary heights. First softly grazing his teeth over my mound, then circling my clit with the tip of his tongue. Long licks between my lips, over and over again as his hands held me open. He followed no set pattern, I didn’t know what he’d do next. A tender wet open-mouthed French kiss to my opening. Or giving my clit a tongue lashing. Maybe even teasing over my * with a light finger. Nothing was off limits in his pursuit of my pleasure.

Had I been mad at the man? I couldn’t remember.

Surely it was all some silly mistake. No one with a mouth so talented and blessed could possibly have behaved like a thoughtless bastard.

A finger eased into me and bent a little, taking on the shape of a hook. It was the only way he could have reached the pertinent areas. Carefully the pad of his finger rubbed over the back of my clit, massaging me inside. My poor wet swollen * never stood a chance. The orgasm nearly knocked me out. Bright lights bursting inside of me, a pleasure so keen it was almost pain. I came hard and fast, gasping his name, clinging to the bedsheets as the world turned upside down. It took a fair while for things to come right again.

Someone was mouth-breathing seriously loud. How uncouth. Muscles kept twitching, inside me, in my thick thighs. Poor shell-shocked things. They’d probably never be the same. He’d broken me for all others. I was sure of it. And I didn’t even have the energy to care.

He wiped his face off on the sheet and then pulled me into his arms, spooning me. Getting comfortable and settling in for the night. The scent of my come still lingered on him. His lips were still damp as he kissed my shoulder, the back of my neck. I don’t know if I’d ever been with someone quite as raw. Not vulgar, just open, relaxed, and matter-of-fact about sex and into all of my body.

“Apology accepted,” I said.

“Good.”

“Be warned, though, I’m practicing to become a better feminist.” I rolled onto my back, staring at his luminous eyes in the dark. “The whole Chris thing was a kick to the clit, but I’m working hard to set myself straight now. I own this body. My fate is mine.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, meshing his fingers with mine. “Where is this going?”

“I just want you to know, I will not be falling slave to your devil dick and demon tongue. No matter how good they are.”

“Hmm.” He rubbed his mouth against my shoulder. “Is that your way of saying you like how I f*ck?”

“Yes. Basically.”

“Well … I’m glad,” he said eventually. “And I’d like you to know that I consider myself a feminist too. You are more than my equal. But with all due respect, I think maybe you should consider getting some sleep now. This body that you own is probably going to feel bad in the morning. I’m a little worried that you’re fated to have a hangover tomorrow.”