Page 99 of Dash

Then I remember Dash.

He’s leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded, watching me with a devastatingly soft look in his eyes.

I probably should have asked before I raided his clothes.

“You want me to take it off?”

“You think I can take that off you after that performance?”

“I really like hoodies. Maybe I should just start buying bigger sizes or men’s hoodies.” I thumb through the rest of the pile.

He comes up behind me, his hands sliding around my stomach. There’s nothing to feel there, not yet, but he holds my belly as if he can feel the swell of our baby beneath his hands. “I like you wearing my shit.” His nose goes to my neck, trailing down to the dip between my shoulder.

He turns me around, and I tip my chin up as he kisses me. His hand wraps around my throat, his thumb swiping over my pulse as he deepens the kiss. I melt into him. I can’t help it. I’m a wanton bitch because I would drop to my knees right now and take whatever scraps he offers me.

Unfortunately, the kiss ends too soon and leaves my thighs clenching around air.

“What do you want to do now?” he asks.

I wiggle my eyebrows at him, and he shakes his head. “You need to rest.”

“What I need is for my deliciously hot boyfriend to lick my pussy.”

He snorts. “You only just got out of the hospital. You were drooling in the taxi less than ten minutes ago.”

“Exactly. I had a nap, and now, I feel fine.”

His brow raises, and I roll my eyes. “Okay, I don’t feel like I could run a marathon. I’m nauseous, everything aches, and I’ll probably fall asleep midway through whatever we do, but I’ve been feeling like this for weeks, Dash, and we’ve had plenty of kitty activity.”

“I didn’t know you were pregnant then.”

I fist my fingers into his shirt. “No.No. You do not get to withhold the only thing that brings me joy right now. I can’t eat the things I love, and I can’t make it through a full episode of anything without falling asleep. I’m already sacrificing everything, including my body, so you don’t get to take sex away from me as well.”

I’m pretty sure I sound deranged, but I also don’t care because there is an ache between my legs that I really want taken care of. I peer up at him, giving him a pitiful look. “Hospitals make me twitchy. You know what makes me less twitchy? Orgasms.” I rest my hands on his chest. “Do you want me to beg, because I will?”

He lifts me into his arms, and my mouth latches over his, kissing him like I can tether him to me just with my body.

His hands are under me as he walks us out the closet and carefully lowers me onto the bed. I spread my arms wide across the mattress, letting my thighs flop open.

“If nothing else, you owe me this because the last thing that was up there was a doctor and a probe.”

He grabs my chin, not hard but enough to get my attention. “Then let me erase all of that for you.”

He drags my leggings and underwear down my legs, and he kisses a trail along my thighs, every touch almost sacrosanct.

My fingers fist into his sheets as he gets close to the apex between my thighs and then moves to my stomach.

Every touch is holy and beautiful, and when he slides his fingers through my heat, a gasp slips out of me.

“You’re always so wet for me. Are you thinking about my tongue inside your pretty cunt?”

My lips twitch. His touch might be worship, but his mouth is pure filth.

I fucking love it. “Less talk, more licking.”

He taps my pussy in warning, and my hips instantly lift off the bed. “Less bossing.”

I don’t want him to stop, so I close my mouth while his latches over my clit. He pulls my thighs wider, his head buried between my legs.

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