Rogue (Dead Man's Ink, #2)(15)

I stare down at Sophia, wondering what she’s dreaming about. She’s so beautiful. When I was a kid, my mother had a print of Gustav Klimt’s ‘The Kiss’ on her bedroom wall. I used to stand and stare at the fine detailing of that painting, admiring the obvious, captured emotion between the two subjects, and admiring how ethereal the woman looked. That’s how Sophia looks now—ethereal. Not of this world. Magical, somehow. She takes my breath away.

I should feel a little guiltier about what I’m about to do, but I don’t. She’s not going to object. She’s going to enjoy every last second of it, even if it kills me. And if I’m wrong and she doesn’t want it, I’ll stop and she can kick my ass again. Slowly I sink down to my knees and carefully hook my fingers under the waistband of her black cotton panties. The backs of my hands make contact with her sides and her skin is scalding, hot to the touch. She stirs, moaning lightly. I freeze, but then kick myself. The goal isn’t to not get caught here. I want her awake and writhing against me, damn it. I want her panting my name as I make her come.

I bite back a smile as I let go of her panties, changing tack, and slowly sliding my thumb down, in between her legs. She inhales sharply, back arching up a little from the sofa, but she remains asleep. Her body responds to me, even though she’s out cold, which is a beautiful thing. She opens her legs, sliding them apart, sending blood rushing to my head.

She is so amazing. Her body is incredible. My dick presses persistently against my boxers, but I don’t touch myself. This will be so, so much better if I wait for her to lay hands on me. I start slowly, rubbing her clit with my thumb in small circles. This is such delicious torture. I want to pull her underwear to the side and taste her, but it’s too soon. I want her to be awake for that. I want her to want me to. I apply a little more pressure with my thumb, a slow smile spreading across my face as Sophia gradually presses her hips up, grinding herself against me. Mind blowing.

As I lightly press my mouth against the inside of her thigh, I look up the length of her stunning body to see that her eyelids are fluttering open. I guess this is the decisive moment. I ready myself, bracing for the full force of her outrage. Her lips part, the tip of her pink tongue slowly sliding out to wet her lips. She gazes at me blearily. I witness the moment where she fully comprehends what’s happening as her eyes clear of sleep, growing wider.

“What—?”

I hold up my free hand, halting her before she can go any further. “Don’t kick me. If you kick me, you’ll open up my stitches.”

“Will I open up your stitches if I kick you in the head?” she whispers.

I nod. “Probably. And let’s face it. You might mess up my face. You like my face. You don’t want to mess it up.”

“You really are something else,” she says. She doesn’t bat my hand away, though. She doesn’t tell me to stop. I press down a little hard, quickening the motion as I continue to tease her clit, and she holds her breath.

“I can stop if you want me to, Soph. I can drag my ass back to my bed, no problem. I get the feeling you don’t want me to, though.”

“You’re an arrogant son of a bitch. What makes you think—”

“Because I can feel how wet you are through your panties, Sophia. And you’re really, really damn wet.”

“Urgh!” She presses her legs together, trapping my hand between them, scowling at me where I’m kneeling on the floor beside her.

“What now?” I ask, grinning at her. “Is this where you pretend to get all upset and make me remove my hand? Huh?” I have just enough room to continue stroking my fingers over her *. She tenses, the muscles in her legs locking up. I can see the need in her eyes, which is almost enough to make me forget rational thought. “Or is this when you open up for me and let me slide my index finger and my middle finger deep inside you while I use my mouth on you at the same time.”

“You are not going down on me,” she hisses.

“Why not?”

“Because. I haven’t showered since this morning.” Her scowl deepens, but I can see her true feelings quite plainly in her eyes again. The idea of my tongue lapping at her clit is turning her on. In case I needed any further evidence, I can feel her panties growing even wetter. They’re soaked now. The need to taste her is almost overwhelming, but I manage to restrain myself. I have to wait for her to unclamp her legs from around my arm before I can do anything anyway.

“Sophia,” I whisper. “There’s no one else here. This is just you and me. Are you afraid of me?”

“I should be.”

“Maybe. But are and should be are two different things. Are you attracted to me?”

She swallows. It looks like it takes great effort. “Yes,” she says breathlessly.

“Good. And do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

Answering this question takes a little longer. She stares me dead in the eye, not blinking or breathing while she makes up her mind. Eventually she says, “No.”

“Good. Do you think I’m going to try and make you do something you don’t want to?”

She slowly shakes her head.

I quicken my movements, rubbing her a little more firmly. Her eyes practically roll back in her head. “Say it,” I command. “Tell me you know I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”