Page 99 of Renegade Rift

Fuck. The way this woman has me wrapped around her little finger. There’s not a chance in hell I would deny her a thing when she begs so eloquently.

I smile against her neck before allowing myself to fall to my knees so I can worship her like the goddess she is.

Juliet sucks in a sharp breath when I press my nose to her belly and slide down to the apex of her thighs, inhaling deep. Sweet and alluring, the scent of her has my dick throbbing against my zipper.

“Juliet,” I croon. “Are you as wet for me as you were when you slipped your dainty little fingers in this perfect cunt?”

“More,” she whispers. I watch as her thighs clench together, and all I can think is how amazing they’ll feel doing that on either side of my head.

I press a kiss through the soft fabric where I imagine her clit is as I delve my hands beneath the soft fabric, grateful they’re loose enough for me to tease. She squirms under my touch as I explore her thighs with my fingertips. “Juliet,” I growl, barely keeping it together when I discover there isn’t another layer of fabric where I expect. “Please tell me you’re wearing panties.”

“That would be a lie.” I don’t have to look up to know she’s looking down at me with a shit-eating grin. “And you told me you wanted nothing but honesty.”

“Fucking hell,” I mutter as I rip my hands from beneath her shorts, and tear open the button so I can see for myself that she’s telling the truth.

I vaguely hear her gasp as I yank down her shorts in one swift stroke, because it’s overshadowed by the whole body groan I let loose at the sight of her pussy. It’s a museum-worthy work of fucking art—that is, if I’d be so inclined to let anyone else see her this way, which to be clear, I’m not. Hell, if I have it my way, no other man will ever marvel at the way her gorgeous tan stomach gives way to a small trimmed triangle of hair just above her clit.

In a moment of what I can only describe as lust filled bravery, Juliet steps out of her shorts and spreads her thighs, leaving just enough room for me to nestle between them.

“Is this okay?” she asks, but what her uncertainty is really saying is:I need you to reassure me I’m okay.

Pride swells in my chest.

She doesn’t know it, but she’s taking a stand. She’s letting me in. She’s asking all the right questions.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Juliet?” I hook one of my arms under her knee and lift her leg over my shoulder. It not only gives me better access, but also tilts her hips so her pussy is at my lips. I tease her glistening entrance with little puffs of air. “You are a goddamn work of art, and I can’t wait to taste you.”

Before she can think too hard on my words, I press my nose against her clit and tilt my neck so that when I lick her slit from bottom to top, my eyes arelocked with hers.

“Fuuuck,” I groan, unable to hold it back, and Juliet lets out a long whimper followed by my name and other unintelligible words.

If the smell of her arousal was enough to turn me on, the taste has me damn near coming in my pants. Yesterday I would have told you my favorite dessert was chocolate ice cream, but today my answer is forever changed. I’ll just take a side of Juliet after every meal.

She thrusts her hips forward, and I devour her like a man starved, making it my mission to collect every drop of her desire. But not even that is enough. Ever the greedy bastard, I want her release too. I want to be able to look up at her when I’m finished, her come dripping down my chin, and tell her I’ll never be the same again now that I’ve tasted her.

Lost in a lust driven haze, I suck her clit into my mouth. She screams my name, I hook her other leg over my shoulder, leaving her supported by the door and my mouth alone. I need more. I want everything she has to give. Growling against her fluttering pussy, I dig my fingers into the flesh of her hips and my tongue flicks staccato beats against her clit, hard and fast.

Juliet’s entire body goes rigid, and at first, I think it’s because she’s close. But when she doesn’t move—doesn’t breathe—I realize it’s not in the I’m-going-to-come-all-over-your-face kind of way. Silence eats the space between us, and I immediately stop my attack on her clit and pull back so I can see her face.

Her eyes are wide and filled with tears, and her jaw is clenched so tight it’s a miracle her teeth haven’t cracked.

“Juliet?” I whisper in panic as I gently set her feet back on the ground. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

“I don’t want you to stop.” She shakes her head, the first of her tears falling. “I want this. I just?—”

“Love, you’re trembling.” Fear and concern lace my voice. I stand and move to grab a blanket to wrap around her, but Juliet’s hands dart out and she closes her fingers around my forearms, stopping me.

“Don’t go. I just need a minute.”

I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince me or herself, but when I search her face, I read her indecision like a book. There’s no doubt that something I did sent her into a spiral, and I can’t go on without knowing what.

“I’m just going to grab a blanket so you’re not standing here half naked.”

She nods, and I half expect her to follow me to the couch to sit. When she doesn’t, I grab the oversized blanket and return to her, wrapping it around her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t want to sit?”

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