Page 27 of Perfectly Naïve
He purrs in approval and redoubles his efforts. Teasing me, pinching my nipples, kneading away the sting, stroking my walls. Then his fingers curl inside of me, brushing a spot I thought only my vibrator could reach.
“Please,” I beg.
“Shhh.” He rests his chin on my shoulder. “Will you come for your alpha?”
I nod, whining as the sensations begin to almost hurt, too much to handle, but Sawyer doesn’t let up. He guides me through until there’s nothing left but his fingers, his touch, his praise.
A throaty scream tears through the room. Sawyer’s chest is rumbling like a V-8 engine. My pantingfills the air.
His lips brush over the shell of my ear. “For the record, Liv, I haven’t been able to think about anything but you since the movie started.”
My heart trembles.
I’m in danger.
Chapter Nine
WILDER
Would it be rude to plug the coffee grinder into an extension cord and run it in the hallway outside of Sawyer’s room? Because the shithead didn’t warn me he was bringing a delectable omega here, and I’ve been hard since I stumbled home last night after a long session at Fine Line.
The client sat so well, we finished her back piece in one go, rather than breaking it up into two sessions like I’d planned. Some people take tattoos better than others. I was exhausted when we were done, ready to sleep, but the first thing that hit me when I walked through the door was the soft scent of vanilla and honey.
The second? A musky scent that made my balls ache.
Fucking Sawyer. We’re grown men, I shouldn’t have to ask him not to defile our sofa. And I know it was Sawyer because my twin, Hayes, stayed later at his body shop than I stayed at my tattoo shop, choosing to crash in his office rather than risk driving. And Liam’s parents roped him into some family get-together. I’m not even sure when he’ll be home.
Herscent. Fuck. If I could bottle it and mix it in with the pancakes I’m preparing to make, I would. When was the last time I scented someone so sweet and delicious?
Yeah, Sawyer had some fun with the delectable omega, and it took all of my self-control not to roll around on the couch like a dog. Despite the fact that the vanilla and honey scent is somehow muted, I still tossed and turned all night.
Saturdays should be for sleeping in, but I gave up the fight and trudged out of bed, hard and annoyed, at six-fifteen. I’m not a big enough asshole to grind coffee in the hallway, like I’m tempted to do, but I will wake Sawyer up with the scent of bacon and blueberry pancakes. With a hint of vanilla added in. Why not? It’s been making my mouth water for hours.
I text my twin, letting him know there will be breakfast in the next half hour, and I’m not surprised to see three little dots pop up immediately. The couch in his office is uncomfortable as hell.
THE HOT ONE
If you’re up, come home for breakfast. Bacon and pancakes.
THE UGLY ONE
On my way. I’m going to need a neck rub when I get home.
Good thing you have two hands.
I’m your twin. My pain should be your pain.
You’re a pain, all right. A pain in my ass.
Fucking little brothers . . .
You’re two minutes older.
Your point?
You can’t call me little brother. We’re twins.
I can do whatever I want.
