The Peer and the Puppet (When Rivals Play, #1) (58)

And then the frosting caught my eye.

“Stop bossing me around.”

I grabbed the bowl and dipped the fingers sticky with Four’s juices inside. “Stop being a brat.” I ran cream-coated fingers over her sex “Or I won’t make you come again.”

“I can’t anyway.” She sounded so sure.

I sat on one of the barstools and tugged her closer to the edge of the island. “Say you want me to go down on you.”

“Is that an order?”

“If that gets you wetter.” She could pretend my taking charge didn’t turn her on, but I’d proven her wrong once, and I was about to do it again. For a while, there was nothing but the sound of my fingers unhurriedly gliding through her wetness. She seemed content to let me play with her, another orgasm on the horizon, but then she wailed in frustration.

“I’m just not sure what we’re doing here!”

“I told you not to think. Thinking comes later.”

“I think they call that regret.”

“And what did I say about thinking?”

“Yes, master.”

I gently bit the inside of her thigh. “Smartass.”

Her fingers dug into my shoulders with brown eyes wide and vulnerable. “Ever, I don’t want to be toyed with.”

“I promise you I’m very serious about tasting you.”

“I mean after. I don’t want to regret this. Don’t make me a—” She inhaled when I swept my tongue up her slit. “Fool,” she finished with a moan.

I chose not to respond. Instead, I devoured her. I may have wanted her more than my next breath, but I didn’t trust her any more than she did me.

Was it deception?

Probably.

But she tasted too exquisite—like cool spring water after a lifetime in the desert—for me to care.

Her shoes, jeans, and panties ended up on the floor, the reason why they’d still been on forgotten. Her legs were spread wide, leaving her pussy on vulgar display, so I seized her writhing hips, and when I felt her fingers tighten their grip on my hair, I pushed my tongue into her pussy. She came apart an instant later. I sucked her clit once more to prolong her orgasm, and this time, she clapped her hands over her own mouth as she came.

Fuck yeah.

When I lifted my head from between her thighs and stood, I had a tent in my pants the size of Mt. Everest. Pressing my hips into the counter to chase away the need to fill her, I licked my lips, tasting buttercream and…her. “Best cream I’ve ever tasted. The frosting’s good, too.”

She shivered on the counter and stared up me through lowered lids. “I never expected crass from you.”

“That’s because you don’t know me well.”

It seemed to be the wrong thing to say when her face fell. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

“And yet I let you do…that.”

And just like that, the euphoria from tasting her was gone. How could she treat what she shared with me like some horrible thing? Anger rose too fast for me to push it back down. I heard myself saying, “I ate your pussy, Four. Don’t make it a big fucking deal.”

“Oh, God.” Horror clouded her features, and she pushed my hands from her and scrambled off the counter. Hurriedly grabbing her jeans and shoes, she didn’t look at me as she stepped into them. She didn’t even bother fastening them before exiting from the kitchen and leaving me behind with her discarded panties and that goddamn buttercream.





I WAS THE WORLD’S BIGGEST idiot. How could something that had felt so right end so horribly wrong?

That was an easy one.

Ever had opened his mouth and ruined everything.

He had been the first boy to ever touch me, and I thought the gift I’d given him—my first orgasm—would have meant more to him.

He had been right the night of his party. I didn’t hate him—not like I did right now.

Regret washed over me like a wave until I was drowning. If only I hadn’t suggested that stupid race. There was no way I could deny his touch after witnessing such agility. His race against the clock had only lasted a few seconds, but it was forever carved vividly into my memory. It also made me wonder…

If I ran and he chased, would I even stand a chance?

I didn’t realize I was crying until I stumbled on the last step thanks to my blurred vision. Tyra and a shirtless Vaughn emerged from her room to witness the spectacle I was making of myself.

Tyra immediately rushed to my side while Vaughn stayed glued on the landing. “What’s wrong?”

“Can you make him leave?” I couldn’t look anywhere but at the carpet.

“What did he say to you?” Vaughn questioned with a sigh. His concern was probably genuine. He certainly didn’t seem the type to be fake for anyone.

Still, I didn’t respond or even look at him. His loyalty was to Ever.

“It’s okay,” Tyra consoled with a hand on my back. “They were just leaving.”

“Seriously?” Vaughn spat. His concern had quickly given way to irritation.

“She’s upset, Rees.”

I looked up in time to see him roll his eyes at her last naming him and yank his shirt down his muscled torso.

“Fuck it. Fine.” He stomped down the stairs, clearly not giving a shit if he woke her father from his drunken sleep.