Page 102 of Vicious Games

Trusting me.

I kneel between her spread thighs, trailing kisses down the soft curve of her belly, breathing her in like she’s the first taste of oxygen after drowning.

When I reach the hem of her skirt, I yank it up higher, baring the pink cotton panties stretched tight over her center, soaked with how ready she is.

“Fuck, Frankie,” I groan, running the pad of my thumb over the wet spot. “You’re so wet for me. So fucking perfect.”

She cries out a moan, arching into my hand. “Please,” she pants. “Please, Lucky—”

“I know, baby. I know.”

I hook my fingers into the sides of her panties and pull them down slowly, letting my knuckles graze her thighs as I go, dragging them over her knees, then finally off her ankles, tossing them to the floor.

I stare at her bare, glistening, pink and perfect andmine,and it takes everything in me not to come in my fucking pants like a goddamn pubescent chump.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Frankie,” I murmur, running my hands up the inside of her thighs, feeling her tremble under my touch. “Every inch of you is beautiful.”

And then, without warning, I lean in and lick a long, slow stripe up her center.

She cries out, her whole body jolting, her fists tangling in my hair, pulling me closer to where I want to be. I groan against her, drinking in her taste, my tongue finding her swollen clit and circling it, teasing it, before sucking it into my mouth. Her hips buck, her thighs clamping around my head, ensuring I’m not going anywhere. I grab her hips, pinning her to the couch, and devour her like a man gone mad. Every flick of my tongue, every swirl, every soft scrape of my teeth against her sensitive skin is designed to drive her out of her mind in return. And it’s working. She’s panting, moaning, chanting my name like a goddamn prayer.

“Lucky… Lucky… Lucky…”

“That’s it, baby,” I murmur, the vibration of my voice against her making her jerk. “Let go for me. I wanna feel you fall apart on my tongue.”

I slide two fingers inside her, curling them up just right, stroking her sweet spot while I suck on her clit like I’m possessed.

Fuck, she tastes good. So fucking good.

The need to start humping the damn couch just to get some release is almost blinding. But then I remember that today isn’t about me. It’s about her. This is all for her. So whenever her insecurities start creeping back into her mind, she can remember this moment when she had me on my hands and knees, devouring her sweet pussy like a man unhinged.

I lick and tease Frankie’s clit while I fuck her with my fingers, her arousal doing a number on my head and, fuck me… maybe even my heart. And when I feel her clench my fingers into a vice grip, I almost lose it. Her whole body tightens, her back arching off the couch, her cries turning wild, desperate, and frantic.

I lift my eyes, needing to see her face when she shatters.

“Come for me, Frankie,” I command, my voice pure gravel. “Let me see you. Let me see all of you.”

With one more flick of my tongue, she breaks apart. Her head throws back, a scream ripping from her throat, her body shaking and trembling under me, her legs squeezing my head like a vice, her entire soul poured into the way she fucking falls apart for me.

Fuck me if it isn’t the most beautiful goddamn thing I’ve ever seen. Most guys would stop right about now, and demand she pay the favor back. But not me. I don’t stop. Not until she’s sobbing my name again, pulling at my hair, trying to shove me away because she’s too sensitive, too overwhelmed by the sensations racking over her body.

Only after I see her come again, her juices soaking my lips, hand, and sleeve, do I ease up, kissing her thighs, her hips, her trembling soft belly, whispering how perfect she is between every kiss.

When I finally crawl back up her body, she’s completely depleted—flushed, panting, wrecked in the best way imaginable.

When I kiss her swollen lips again, she kisses me back as if trying to climb inside me. As if she never wants this to end. Never wants to let me go. And fuck me, but neither do I. Not now. Not ever.

“Is it always like that?” she asks once her breathing has calmed, her fingers twirling in my hair as my head remains resting on her chest.

“No.”

It’s never like that.

I’ve never had anything remotely as earth-shattering as that in my life. Especially since I made no move to come.

Me. Not coming? Content in only seeing a girl shatter? Fucking unheard of.

But all I can muster to say is no, leaving out all those troublesome parts.

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