Fever (Breathless #2)(66)

She sighed in frustration. She was so on edge that her skin felt alive. Like it was crawling and trying to turn itself inside out.

He pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades and then gently eased out of her body.

“Don’t move,” he commanded.

She heard his footsteps move away and become more distant. A moment later he returned with a warm washcloth and wiped the se**n from between her legs. Then he carefully untied her wrists and rubbed the tender skin with his thumbs.

“Go in the bathroom and get cleaned up,” he directed. “Not a fan of tasting myself when I’m eating you, baby. When you come out, I’ll be waiting on the bed. I want you to sit on my face while I lick that sweet pu**y.”

He helped her to her feet and she wobbled on unsteady legs to the bathroom to do as he’d told her. She carefully cleaned herself, taking special care to remove all the stickiness. When she walked back into the bedroom, he was sprawled naked on the bed, his c**k lying to one side over his thigh, only semi-erect now.

He was still beautiful and his c**k was still damn impressive, even at rest.

He crooked his finger at her, motioning her over to the bed. He held out his hand to help her climb up and then he scooted down so his feet hung off the bed.

“Crawl up and put your knees on either side of my head,” he said.

It was ridiculous for her to be shy, but she was a little mortified to be climbing up, bold as you please, in order to sit on his face so his mouth was pressed to her pu**y.

She rocked up on her knees so she was still several inches from his mouth. When she started to lower herself, he put a hand to her waist to stop her.

“Use your hand and spread your pu**y lips for me,” he said huskily. “I want my tongue over every inch and I want you to come all over my face.”

She sucked in a huge, steadying breath, but she was a wreck after all that had gone on in the living room and now his blunt, evocative words cut right to her core and sparked instant arousal.

She tentatively slid her hand down her belly and then into the curls between her legs, finding the plump folds. Her finger rubbed over her clit and she moaned.

“I can smell how turned on you are,” Jace growled. “So f**king sexy. Spread for me, baby. Can’t wait to taste you.”

She parted her lips with her fingers and held herself open before lowering herself those last few inches. The instant she made contact with his tongue, she jerked and bucked upward. He grasped her hips with both hands, his grip hard, and slammed her back down onto his mouth.

He ate her like a man starving. Licking, feasting, sucking, sliding his tongue inside her and over all parts in-between her entrance and her clit. He worked her into a mindless frenzy, until she rode his face like she was taking his cock.

But then he slid his fingers between her ass cheeks and parted her just as she’d parted her pu**y lips. His index finger inched closer to her anal opening, teasing and rimming the entrance. He pushed in the barest amount. Not even an inch. Just the tip of his finger, but it was enough to send her hurtling right over the edge.

She exploded into his mouth, drenching his lips and chin with a sudden flood of moisture. She bucked and writhed, wanting more of his mouth. Wanting those wicked fingers. Wanting everything he had to give her.

She sagged downward, her muscles going completely lax, and then she realized to her embarrassment that she was probably smothering him. She jerked upward, but he caught her hips and settled her down just below his chin so his mouth was pressed to her belly.

Her fluids glistened on his lips and his chin, and he licked his tongue over his lips, removing the traces of her release. It was insanely provocative and arousing to watch a man who greatly enjoyed going down on a woman. He looked satisfied and supremely smug, like the cat who got the cream. And, well, she supposed he had.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling her down so she was cradled in his arms, resting firmly against his chest. He rolled until they were side by side, her tucked into his neck, his hands possessively gripping her ass.

“Christmas is in a few days.”

She propped her head up, because this was an abrupt change in topic and it made her wary. But he pulled her back down, holding her so her face was once again buried in his neck.

“Like you like this,” he rumbled out. “Touching me. So close you’re melted on my skin. Like a permanent tattoo. I like wearing you and nothing else.”

She smiled against his neck.

“My baby likes that,” he said smugly.

“Yeah, I like,” she breathed.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Christmas is coming up shortly. We’re spending it at Gabe and Mia’s, and Gabe’s parents will be there, as will Ash. You have a closet full of clothes but I want you to choose what you wear.”

She stiffened in surprise. This wasn’t one of their agreements. He made all the decisions. Even the insignificant ones like what she wore outside the apartment. Now for general errands, slumming around the house, running down to the market for something, she wore whatever. But when they went out for any reason together, he chose her clothing, and she had to admit he had impeccable taste.

“I want you to be comfortable and confident,” he said in a low voice. “And if you don’t have anything in your closet that’s going to work for you and make you feel those two things then I want you to go out and buy something. No argument. You have credit cards. You have cash. It’s about damn time you start using them.”