Take a Hint, Dani Brown (The Brown Sisters #2)(57)

“Want some help?” His voice was slow, velvet sin.

She rubbed her clit frantically, her breaths labored. “Fuck, yes. Please.”

“Stand up, then.” He leaned back, watching her like an animal waiting to strike. She stood and shoved off her shorts and her underwear in one fast, thoughtless, unsexy move, and his jaw clenched so tight she worried it might break. His hips lifted, just a bit, as if he’d started to thrust against thin air and had barely managed to stop himself. “Turn around,” he said, his voice like iron.

She turned, and saw her altar, and the statue of Oshun, and thought, Thank you, universe, for sending me—

Meaningless sex, she ought to have thought.

—Zafir, her mind supplied.

If she’d had another second, her lust-soaked brain might’ve sobered in surprise, and she might’ve realized that it wasn’t normal for her entire body to be on fire for one person, wasn’t normal for his voice to thrill her as much as his touch did, wasn’t normal for his hands to squeeze her heart as much as, you know, her tits.

But Dani’s mind never got the chance to hurtle down Danger Avenue, because Zaf was still talking in that strained, hungry, God, I want you voice. “Bend over,” he ordered, and she leaned forward at the waist until she heard his low, tortured groan. Closing her eyes, she imagined what he could see: the curve of her arse, the hint of her swollen, glistening pussy.

Then she felt his big hands on her, his fingers digging into her hips. “What’s with the tattoo?” he asked.

She flushed at the reminder of the words inked onto her arse. “Undergrad. Sorcha.”

“Ah.” Since Zaf had met Sorcha a few times, that was probably explanation enough. She felt his teeth graze her skin, biting gently, as per the tattoo’s instructions. Something in her stomach clenched like a fist. Then cool air hit her sensitive folds, and the vision in her head changed: now he was holding her open, exposing her ruthlessly, and he’d see more than just a hint. He’d see her cunt, soft and wet for him, and—

One of his hands slid between her thighs, his finger nudging her clit. Dani’s whole body jerked, so hard and so sudden that he wrapped an arm around her hips to keep her still.

“Fuck.” The word shuddered out of her, as unsteady as her legs. She put her hands flat on the altar and bit her lip.

Zaf tapped her clit again and murmured, “Good?”

“So good,” she gasped, rocking back. “Fuck, Zafir.”

His finger, wet with her want, circled her clit with brutal slowness, and whatever scraps of cool she’d been clinging to disappeared.

“Oh my God, Zaf, just lick me or fuck me or something, I need to come so badly—”

“Can you do something for me, love?”

“Anything, I promise, I’ll—just—”

“If you like it,” he said softly, “scream.” And then he put his mouth on her.

At which point, Dani realized it was entirely possible, maybe even likely, that Zaf had sold his soul to some dark god in exchange for incredible oral sex skills. If so, Dani thoroughly supported—indeed, approved of—his decision.

The man didn’t just lick her; he practically fell inside her vagina face-first. Which was a lot sexier than it sounded. His tongue slid through her folds like warm, wet silk, his beard rasped against the tender curve where her thighs met her arse, and his finger worked her stiff little clit so firm and fast that if he stopped, she might kill him. She’d at least try. She’d smack him over the head with her statue of Oshun, probably, because the feel of him burying his face in her pussy was fucking intoxicating, and his tongue made her knees weak, and the arm he wrapped around her upper thighs was the only thing keeping her upright.

“Please,” she panted, words rushing out like a fall of shattered glass. “Zaf, please.” He rubbed his tongue over her cunt with deliberate, ruinous decadence. The twist of need inside her grew tighter and tighter, until the pressure was just too much. She did exactly as he’d asked: she screamed.

The sound was short and sharp and shaking, her orgasm hard and unescapable. It ripped through her on a wave of sheer ecstasy, then stuck around, sinking into her bones even as her muscles turned to liquid. Zaf’s tongue stroked her softly through each aftershock. And then, when her knees finally gave out, he caught her in his arms and stood.

Dani screwed her eyes shut as her stomach flipped. “For heaven’s sake,” she mumbled, each word shivering and breathless. “I am in too delicate a condition to be thrown around right now.”

“Delicate, hmm?” Zaf sounded amused and . . . smug. The bastard. “I better put you to bed,” he said mildly, at which point Dani discovered heretofore unmined reserves of energy.

“Yes.” She grinned, opening her eyes. “You’d better.”

“On it.”

With his eyes gleaming hungrily and his mouth swollen and slick, Zaf looked like exactly what he was: an unholy tool of sexual devastation, also known as Dani’s greatest fantasy. He shouldered his way into her room, dropped her onto the bed, and then stripped off the rest of his clothes with little fanfare.

“This is very efficient,” she said as his trousers disappeared.

“I have a one-track mind.”

“I approve.”

He laughed and took off his underwear. Now he was gloriously naked under the glow of her bedside lamp, prowling toward her like an advancing god. He had a broad, heavy body, with amber skin dusted by pitch-black hair, but Dani found 100 percent of her attention sucked up by his cock. Which was appropriate, since she’d like to suck his cock. It was thick and dark and curved slightly to the left, the head shining with pre-come, a fine vein pulsing along the underside that practically begged for her tongue.