Page 189 of They Are Mine

Just to see how she reacts.

She gasps, moans, squirms.

And when I glance up?

She’s watching me, wide-eyed, flushed, panting.

Like I might just fucking wreck her.

And oh, sweetheart.

I will.

She’s fucking dripping.

I haven’t even touched her yet, not where she needs it, and she’s already soaked.

Jesus Christ.

I drag my fingers up the inside of her thigh, slow, teasing, until they graze her slick heat.

She shudders.

I grin. “You’re making a mess, baby.”

Her breath hitches, back arching. “Then clean me up.”

Oh, fuck.

She wants to be ruined.

Needs it.

I grip her hips and yank her to the edge of the bed, throwing her legs over my shoulders.

She squeaks, adorable.

Then I dive in.

A long, slow lick.

She cries out.

I do it again, deeper, filthier, sloppier.

Her hips jerk against my mouth, thighs trembling.

Perfect.

I suck, tongue flicking against her clit, fast, relentless, dirty.

She whimpers.

Moans.

Fucking writhes.

I grip her hips, pinning her down. “Stay still, baby.”

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