Page 16 of The Upgrade

“Mine’s different from theirs,” I explain, shifting to give him a better view. “It’s a little smaller, with the heart done in pink instead of red, but?—”

“It’s beautiful.” He traces the tip of his finger over the shape on my hip. It’s a little surprising he noticed. It’s off to the side and not very big. Camille got hers on her right ankle, and their mom inked hers on her breast.

I’m guessing Kit doesn’t know this.

His eyes lift to mine, and I can’t read his thoughts. “It suits you.”

“Thanks.” I shove off his shirt, pushing it over his shoulders. “Do you have any?”

“Tattoos?” His smile holds a hint of relief, like he’s glad to move on from the topic of family. “I’ll let you find out for yourself.”

“Challenge accepted.” I start to unbutton his pants, but Kit puts a hand on mine.

“Wait.”

I groan in frustration, ready to get on with fucking. “Seriously?”

A hungry grin lights up his face. “Now that you’re naked, I should taste you again.”

“Is there some kind of oral sex rule I should know about?”

“Yep.” Still grinning, he flips me onto my back and crawls down my body. “It’s called the Kit Can’t Get Enough of Devouring Eve Decree. Look it up.”

I open my mouth to make some kind of sarcastic response, but he shoulders my thighs apart and his tongue sweeps a path through my folds. God, he’s good at that.

“Kit,” I pant, threading my hands through his hair. He’s licking and sucking and fucking me deep with his tongue.

It’s not enough, though. I need his fingers. I need?—

“Your cock.” Letting go of his hair, I claw at his shoulders. He keeps sipping my clit as I struggle to drag him up my body. “Please.”

Ignoring my pleas, he flutters his tongue through my sopping wet core. Christ, he’s talented. Brock didn’t love to go down on me. He’d rally sometimes—on birthdays or date nights—but less often once he’d proposed.

Frustration wells up inside me, along with another orgasm.

“Please, Kit.” I need him inside me, erasing the thought of my dickhead fiancé. I need that thick cock I felt through the fly of his pants. “Fuck me.”

He stops sucking my clit for a second. “Are you begging?”

Smug bastard. “No.” Balling the sheets in my hands, I draw in a shuddery breath. “I don’t beg.”

“Of course you don’t.” He goes back to eating me out. His tongue makes a slow, sultry trip down the length of my slit, then back to the tip of my clit. There’s a fluttery swirl and a breath as he drags his lips over my sensitive bud.

Goddamn. The man could patent his technique. He’d make a fucking mint.

“Jesus, Kit.”

Thick fingers coax me open, and I spread my legs wider. If I can’t have his cock, this might be the next best thing.

But he doesn’t slide inside me this time. Just the tip of one digit, teasing me, tormenting.

With a growl of frustration, I tip up my hips. I’m trying to force his fingers inside me, but Kip clamps a hand on my thigh.

“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, teasing my clit with his tongue. “Such a greedy little pussy.”

“Please.” I whimper as his fingertip teases my opening. It’s not enough. I’m so empty and aching. “Kit, please?—”

“Please what?” He licks me again, the rasp of his stubble delighting the skin of my inner thigh. It’s such a sharp contrast to the soft tug of lips, the gentle swirl of his tongue. I’m so hungry for more and so dizzy I break.

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