Tangled (The Tangled Series)(37)

What a great night. I think this could very well be the best night of my life. And it’s only just started.





Kate squeals as I stand up and carry her, wrapped around me, to my bedroom.

I’ve never brought a woman to my bedroom before. It’s a rule. No random hook-ups in my apartment—never even considered it. If one of those girls actually knew where I lived? Can you say Stalker Psycho, anyone?

But I don’t think twice about laying Kate down in the middle of my bed. She watches me, on her knees as I strip off my buttonless shirt and get rid of the used condom. Biting her lip with a smile, she peels off her own blouse that was still hanging on her arms. Oh yeah—and she’s still got her heels on.

Nice. So very, very nice.

I crawl over to her and rest on my knees in the center of the bed. I cradle her face in my hands as I kiss her long and hot. I’m all set to go again. My dick pokes her in the stomach where it stands firm and ready. But this round, I want to take my time. I’ve admired her body for months—and now I plan to explore every f*cking inch of it, up close and personal.

I lean forward and lay her back. Kate’s hair fans out behind her onto my pillows. She looks like some mythical imp, some fabled pagan sex deity from a Roman legend.

Or a well-acted porno.

Her knees fall open naturally, and I settle between them. Christ…she’s already damp. I can feel how wet she is against my stomach when she pushes up and rubs against me. Silently begging for it—again.

I kiss my way down her neck and collarbone, coming face to face with her pebbled breasts. Kate’s hands knead my shoulder blades as I lick a circle around one dusky pink center. Her breathing’s fast and urgent. I flick my tongue over her nipple quickly until she groans my name.

The minute the word leaves her lips, I close my mouth over her and suckle hard. For a few minutes, I alternate licking, sucking, and scraping her pointy little peak. Her reaction is so frigging primal, I can’t help but switch to the other tit and give that beauty the same attention.

By the time I work my way lower, Kate is writhing under me, bucking and rubbing herself on any part of my body she can reach.

It’s shameless.

Beautiful.

And as badly as I want her right now, as goddamn good as it feels to have her grinding against me—I’m in complete control of what I’m doing. I’m in charge. And there’s one thing I can’t wait to do. Something I’ve f*cking dreamed of doing ever since that night at Howie’s. I lick a trail down the center of her stomach, then crawl lower. I slip her shoes off and lick another path up her inner thigh till I’m eye level with my target: her neat patch of dark curls.

Kate is shaved short, trim, and the skin surrounding her snatch is as smooth as silk. I know because I’m nibbling my way around that manicured little triangle right now. Guys love a * that’s almost completely bare. And no, it has nothing to do with perverted pre-pubescent fantasies. The idea that a woman is nearly bald there is just…naughty. Such a turn on.

I rub my nose into her tiny, coarse patch and inhale. Kate gasps and moans above me—eyes closed, mouth open.

Just so you know, men don’t expect a woman to smell like Winter Pine or Niagara Falls or whatever the f*ck those feminine products say. It’s a *—it’s supposed to smell like one. That’s the f*cking turn on.

Kate’s scent in particular has me salivating like a famished frigging animal. I rub again, kissing her plump outer lips. Mother of God.

Her hands clench the blanket.

“God, you smell so good, I want to eat you all night.”

And I just actually might.

I lick up her wet slit, and she arches off the bed with a moan. I push her hips down with my hands, holding her immobile as I do it again, and she cries out louder.

“That’s it, Kate—let me hear you.”

I’m well aware that this—that I—am the first man to ever do this to her. And yes, as a guy, that fact makes it even better.

You know who Neil Armstrong is, don’t you?

Now tell me who the second guy was. Hell, tell me any other guy you know who made it to the moon after him. You can’t, can you? That’s why this is such a rush.

She’ll never forget this.

She’ll always remember…me.

Maybe that’s chauvinistic and egotistical, but it’s the truth.

Up and down, over and over, I lick her from end to end. Her cream is sweet and thick. Goddamn delicious. I push her thighs apart, spreading her wider, and push in and out of her—f*cking her with my tongue. Her head rolls side to side as high-pitched moans echo from her throat. She’s incoherent, and her toes dig into my shoulders, but I don’t let up. No freaking way. In one motion, I suck Kate’s firm little clit into my mouth and slip two fingers inside her.

Then I’m the one moaning. Her hot juice coats my fingers, almost burning. I can’t stop my hips from rotating and rubbing against the bed. Fuck. Still pumping in and out with my hand, I flatten my tongue and rub steady, hard circles on her clit.

“Drew! Drew!”

Hearing Kate scream charges me up even more. I move my fingers faster, in time with my tongue, and look up…needing to see her lose it. I’m going to come just watching her. The look on her face is full-blown ecstasy, and I don’t know which one of us is getting off more.