Page 44 of The Sharpest Edges

“I want to.” He rests his chin on her stomach. “Do you?”

She nods, biting her lip.

“I ain’t never done this either,” he admits. “If I do something wrong just yank on my hair.”

She huffs out a laugh, her belly trembling beneath him. “Deal.”

He has never wanted to taste a woman as badly as he needs to taste her. The urge to bury himself between her legs like a dying man given his last meal is overwhelming, but he tries to go slow and ease them both into this. He pulls her to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees on the ground, nuzzles his nose above where he wants to be, and then licks a firm, testing stroke from her opening up to that bundle of swollen nerves.

She nearly comes off the bed at his first touch and he chuckles. “Easy, don’t break my nose.”

He doesn’t give her a chance to reply before he’s working the tip of his tongue through the dips and valleys presented to him.She is slick already, meeting his touch with a warm wetness that he laps at with a growl of approval. He isn’t quite sure where he should be, or what she needs to get there, but he’s watched plenty of porn in his life and it can’t all be wrong. He’s pretty sure that if he pays close attention to that throbbing little nub he’ll be doing something right, but he wants this to last as long as it can, so he ignores her clit for now and leans back a moment.

She twists her hips on the bed, searching for contact, and he doesn’t make her wait. He watches his finger trace the seam of her, spreading her open to reveal the pink inside, and blows a puff of warm breath on her already heated skin. She is glistening at her opening and he teases a fingertip over the liquid, spreading it around, up and over the spot that makes her hips thrust toward his hand. Then, back down to push a single digit past the first ring of muscle.

He watches as her body pulls him in, his finger slowly disappearing until he’s buried to the second knuckle. She is so damn tight and his cock twitches in his pants at the idea of her taking the whole shaft from base to tip. He isn’t quite sure if she can, but he imagines it anyway while he twists his finger within her and lowers his kiss to her once again, suckling where she’s plump and pulsing.

The way she rides his finger and his face has him close to coming in his damn pants and he uses his other hand to work his cock free and stroke himself.

“More…” She gasps, fisting the sheets. “More, please, I need…”

He works a second finger into her beside the first, stretching her around him, teasing her with the firm tip of his tongue in what he hopes is the right rhythm, but in reality, could be afumbled mess. He loses his ability to do three things at once somewhere around the time his own orgasm starts to build and his fingers go still, the hand on his cock pumping fast and his mouth working her with eager flicks of his tongue.

She chases her goal, shifting his fingers where they rest within her by shifting her hips, and then she arches off the bed, suspended and trembling, gripping him as her walls flutter. He follows her as best he can, keeping contact with his mouth while she twists and writhes, breathing his name on a shuddering exhale before finally going slack against the bed.

Two more jerks of his wrist and he comes with a muffled grunt, wincing between her legs, his body strung tight while he spills over his hand and onto the hardwood floor.

When he leans back an inch and removes his fingers from her, he is fascinated at the sight before him. Her entrance trembles with aftershocks, still slack from where he held her open. He wants to taste her again, so he licks the liquid pooling there, pushing his tongue into her as far as he can go, the effects of her orgasm bursting on his tastebuds.

“Too much,” she whimpers. “Too sensitive.”

He leaves her, kicking his pants off his ankles and crawling into bed. He tugs her gently up to the pillows and wraps her in his arms, letting her settle over his chest.

She reaches for him, but he stops her before she can attempt to wrap a hand around his length. “Already did. I’m good. Better than good.”

There’s a giddy rush in his blood when she smiles up at him, her face soft and her eyes love-struck. They may not be ready for more today, but he made his girl come, and he’s as proud as he’s ever been. He can’t wait to do it all over again.

He’s about to dip his head and kiss her, but then somethingcoughs, or wheezes in the background.

“The hell was that?” he says into the silence of the room.

“Maybe the—”

The sound cuts her off, coming from the corner of the room even louder than before, and she darts off the bed in search of it while he turns on the bedside lamp.

“Oh my God. Oh, Dean, something’s wrong…something’s…what do I do?”

She’s clutching a black and white fluff ball to her naked chest, her voice panicked and shrill. The kitten is limp, its face covered in snot that only worsens with every sneeze.

“Shit.”

18

Chapter 18

Dean’s never been to an emergency vet before.

Never been to a real vet either. Would have had to keep a pet at some point for that to happen and the closest he’d ever gotten were the fish in the stream behind his house when he was a kid. The ones he’d throw little pieces of bread to when they had enough slices to spare.

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