The Lies Between Us (The Devil's Dust #4)(21)

“I’m sure there is a rule somewhere that says I shouldn’t sleep with a man I barely know, but I just don’t care,” I mutter, curling his hair around my finger. I know I’m being reckless; the nerves in my chest can prove that. But the urge to feel desired, to feel Lip’s hands claim my skin is a stronger, more prominent craving.

“Something you should know about me, babe: I’m a rule-breaker,” he states, his voice coming out raw and seductive.

Leaning down, he nips at my underwear, his hands sliding up my legs. I bend at the knee and moan from the amount of pleasure I’m receiving with just the simple contact. I’ve never felt so worked-up before. With every touch of his skin against mine, I feel like I may explode in a world of euphoria. He brushes my shirt above my belly button with his nose as his hands travel up my hips. Pushing his fingers in my panties, he slides them against my wetness. I buck against him and close my eyes from the intense tingling sensation bursting through me.

“Fuck, you’re wet for me,” he whispers, the sound nearly making me whimper from the way it does things to me. It’s so powerful, so raw.

“Lip, I, uh…” Insecurities start to fill my chest, second thoughts firing in my mind. The first time I’d done this, I was wasted. I’m far from being shit-faced, and I’m feeling very inexperienced at the moment.

“What’s wrong?” He stills. My mouth dries as I try to think of how to say it.

“I’ve, um, w-well,” I stammer. “I’ve only had sex once before, and I was really drunk,” I finally state.

“So?” He shrugs, nipping at my knee.

“So, what if I’m-you know-not any good?”

He smiles. He f*cking smiles.

“No f*cking way you could be bad.” He shakes his head and looks down. I arch a brow, unsure what to say to that. “But I’ll go slow so I don’t hurt you.”

He slowly lifts his head, his eyes hooded. “I feel sorry for that last prick you were with, ‘cause now that you’re opening your legs for me, I’m about to be the last man to be between them,” he states, his tone deep and serious. My heart thuds with attraction. His words are so proud, so confident, and I f*cking swoon.

“You’re pretty sure of yourself, huh?” I joke. Lip pushes himself up from my belly and rests his forehead on mine, his eyes not giving anything away.

“Cherry, I’ll be your last ‘cause I’ll f*ck you like no man can compare. I’m not being arrogant, I’m being honest. When I’m done with you, you’ll have a hunger for my cock like a starved woman. Now let me f*ck you, ‘cause that’s all I’ve wanted to do since the day you took my wallet.”

My lips part and a weak mewl escapes. God, that’s all I’ve wanted, too, and my body can’t take the torture of having such rugged sexiness within reach anymore.

He inserts a finger into my wetness, testing me, and my * instantly pulses around it. He turns his hand and flexes his finger in a ‘come here’ motion, and stars shoot behind my eyelids. My hands cling to his broad shoulders and my toes curl from the pleasure.

“Jesus, I can feel you clench around my finger,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

My hips ride his finger like a wave. I need that unfamiliar feeling of bliss; I want more of it.

He slowly withdraws his finger and my eyes pop open, finding his focused solely on me.

“Seeing you f*ck my finger like that, I can’t wait to watch you ride my dick, Cherry.” The air is zapped from me, and my lips part to allow a large breath to enter. He has a filthy mouth, but his words make me feel so good. He slowly drags my dainty panties down my legs, the slow pace throwing my senses into hyper-drive. Grabbing me by the knees, he pulls them apart, spreading me wide. He looks at my *, his chest rising.

“I want you to ride my tongue like you did my finger,” he instructs.

I can’t speak as fear fills my chest. What if I taste bad?

He lowers his head, his hands on my bent knees, and laves at my wetness.

“Oh, God!” I moan loudly. It’s so wet and warm. Every strike of his tongue shoots an unfamiliar sensation from my core through each of my limbs.

“You can call me Lip,” he rasps confidently from between my thighs, the sound vibrating against my sensitive skin. I clench my eyes and gasp for air as my body winds up with an incredible sensation. My fingers dig into his shoulders as my hips grind against his face.

He pulls up, my wetness shining against his stubble.

“Not yet,” he growls, stopping just before my body erupts into a thousand little pieces of sexual need. He seems anxious, like he can’t handle it anymore. Sitting on his knees, he lifts me up and pulls my top off frantically. My nipples pebble against the air. I wrap an arm around his neck, my tits pressing into his hardened chest firmly as he places one hand on my back and lowers us.

He smashes his lips to mine, the taste of me filling my mouth. I arch my body into his and pull my mouth away to grant my burning lungs a breath of air. I wrap my legs around him, his hard length pressing right against my opening. I can’t help but rock against it. I want it badly—desperately, even.

“That’s it,” he growls.

“Lip,” I breathe heavily. I can’t take this torture anymore. I know I should resist him, shouldn’t even be here let alone in his room, but with the look in his eyes when he watches me, the wolfish smile across his handsome face, and the way his fingers shoot a toxic wave through every nerve ending of my body, I can’t push him away anymore. I am weak, I am hurting, and I just want to feel good for one damn minute.