Page 68 of No Place Like You

“Shit,” he hisses. One of his hands presses against the wall behind me, and the other threads through my hair. My tongue flattens against the underside of his dick, and he starts to hit the back of my throat, forcing gurgled gagging noises from me. I grip his base with my fist, twisting and turning as his hips jerk forward, and his fingers tug at my hair with urgency. I feel my head hit the wall behind me, and his palm cups my scalp to buffer the harsh thumps. But his movements don’t get any gentler. Instead, he moves in a frenzy, letting my head bob between his legs while I watch the muscles in his arms and stomach and chest strain. And suddenly, I become obsessed with making him come.

“Baby,” he says through a rough voice. “I’m going to come. If you don’t?—”

I respond by sucking harder, hollowing my cheeks and humming a low moan that vibrates between us. Dexter urgently yanks me to my feet and quickly tucks himself back into his pajamas.

“Was that not—did you not like that?”

A harsh breath slips through his lips, and he swallows hard. “No, Lucy. That was…That wasgood.”

“Just good?” I ask, my eyes rounding with innocence.

“More than good,” he answers, his voice like gravel tumbling in his throat. “I just think?—”

I cut him off with a kiss, raking my nails from his nape to his scalp. Because I don’t want to think right now. I don’t want to peruse through all the reasons we shouldn’t be doing this, only to realize how reckless we’ve let ourselves become over a night out and a few extra glasses of wine.

He responds with a kiss just as hungry as mine, and that obsession to see him lose control returns. Through the foggy mist of lust and sex, all I see is the both of us giving into every carnal desire we can think of. And with anyone else, I wouldn’t even dream of losing control like this. I can’t fathom being this exposed and vulnerable while wanting to peel back more layers of myself.

But Dexter’s not just anyone.

I shove my hand into his pants and grip him, moving my hand up and down his length while pushing away the slowly creeping ache clawing at my chest. It doesn’t take long before he presses his body to mine, gripping me through a harsh shudder and a deep groan loud enough to make my entire body rattle, showing how violently his orgasm tears through him.

I expect things to end there, with Dexter breathing harshly into my neck and my hand growing slick inside his boxer briefs, but it doesn’t. He wraps his hand around my wrist, and he drags me into my room, kissing me fiercely as soon as we cross the threshold.

“I swear to God, Lucy,” he growls, gripping my throat to force my gaze to his. His bare chest heaves up and down, and a darkness casts over his eyes, making him look possessive. “This is as far as we go. After this, we go back on what we agreed on, okay? Because I’m trying really,reallyhard to do good by you.”

I nod.

“Good,” he answers, his voice dark and stern. “Now go lie down.” He jerks his chin toward my bed, and I comply, climbing toward the middle and carefully laying myself flat over the comforter. As soon as my head falls back, his fingers grip my ankles, and he drags me to the edge of the bed. And it’s his turn to drop to his knees. He taps at my hips, indicating for me to lift them so he can remove my underwear, and slides them right off. He sighs, rubbing his cheek into my skin and placing a small, gentle kiss at the apex of my thigh.

“You know what I want to do?” Those coarse words spoken through the low grating tone of his voice trails all the way down to my stomach where a throbbing empty pit sits. Waiting. Craving. Begging.

“What’s that?”

“I want to build a shrine for you.” A swipe of hot, wet tongue. “For every square inch of your body.” Another teasing flick. “For this sweet pussy I’m going to be dreaming about for eternity.”

I smirk. “Wouldn’t that be a sight.” Just as I get the last word out, his lips latch onto me, making me jolt. His tongue moves with purpose and fervor, and when he lays his forearm across my hips, I writhe under his hold on me. His mouth is so goddamn…greedy. Like he’s absolutely starved.

He lifts his head, and his eyes dart to mine. I suddenly feel like prey, and he’s the predator. “This might be a little…forward, but do you happen to have a little friend in here?”

My head pops up from the bed. “What, like a leprechaun?”

He chuckles against my skin before sucking on the sensitive area to his right, making me squirm. “I meant like a special battery-operated toy…”

“Oh, you mean Dennis.”

“You named your vibrator Dennis?”

“’Cause, ya know, he’s such a menace.”

He buries his face into my stomach, muffling a laugh. When he looks at me again, his face is bright red. “Where is this Dennis?”

“Nightstand drawer, on the right.”

He bolts for the nightstand, and within seconds, he’s at the edge of the bed again. “Have you been using this pretty often lately?”

I hesitate. “Um, maybe.”

His jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare as if this single admission makes him realize how ravenous he’s become since I moved in. How we’ve both become a ball of pent-up sexual energy with nothing but toys and hands to temporarily relieve some of that pressure. “With me in the next room?”

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