Page 19 of Red My Lips

“I’m coming,” I cry. “Oh yes, Gage.” The floodgates open, and the tsunami pounds through me until there’s no chance of survival. I writhe against him, his name leaving my lips over and over as the pleasure carries me away.

“That’s right, Menace. You’re coming for me.” His eyes are fixated on my face as I fall apart around his cock, and it’s his undoing. Gage is at the point of no return, his grunts growing louder and heavier as he pistons in and out of me. “Fuck, Jill.”

His dark eyes never leave my face as he explodes inside me, pumping roughly through the power of his own release. His arms shake above me, growls turning into guttural groans. He slams into me once, twice, three more times as he rides out his climax before he finally stills inside me. His arm gives out, and he collapses on top of me, completely spent.

Laying crushed beneath this tattoo god, I can’t wrap my head around what just happened between us. I’ve never come so hard in my fucking life—it’s almost as if he read a manual on exactly what to do to my body to maximize my pleasure. But this wasn’t practiced or calculated. It was instinctual. He didn’t need an instruction manual because he read me and knew exactly what I needed. And he sure as hell gave it to me.

Goddamn.

Neither of us move for several long seconds as we recover enough to regain brain function, our panting and sighing the only sounds filling the room. I can feel the erratic beating of Gage’s heart against my chest, and I know he can feel mine. Gage’s nose presses into my hair with a deep inhale, nipping lightly at the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder, then soothing it with his tongue.

“I knew it.” His deep voice vibrates in his chest and into my bones. “Fucking you is the reason I’m on this earth.” When he lifts his head to look down at me, the gratified look on his face tugs at my soul and threatens to steal it.

What am I supposed to say to that?

When he leans down to capture my lips with his, I’m relieved. It’s not often I’m at a loss for words, but I can’t seem to scrape together a full sentence. The man has thoroughly fucked my brains out, leaving nothing but mush.

Our mouths move together in a languid kiss, this one more slow and sensual than before. He brushes a strand of dark hair away from my cheek before cupping my face. Pulling back to look down at me, his gaze is intense and his tone turns contemplative. “The plans I have for you, Jillian Hart.”

That snaps me out of it.

“The only plans I have are to go home and shower you off me before my dinner plans.” I finally got my voice back. Gage smiles at my words like he finds them flattering.

“No amount of showering will ever wash me off of you, little devil. I’m permanent.” He pulls out of me, leaving a satisfying ache. When I move to get up, his hold on my jaw turns possessive. “Threaten to let another man touch you again, and I won’t let you come,” he says, and I know he means it. Defiance trickles through me, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Bold of you to assume you’ll ever get the chance.” I’m bluffing, we both know it. But I can’t let him have the last word. He chuckles darkly, like I’m a child who’s in way over her head. But he lets me get up anyway.

Gage remains lounging on the couch when I stand, and I feel his eyes on me as I reach up to run a hand through my tangled hair—I hate to think what my bangs look like right now. When I turn my back to him, he reaches out to grab a handful of my ass before giving it a smack and watching it jiggle. “Soon, I’m going to be inside this gorgeous ass of yours.”

I bend down to pick my clothes up off the floor, looking at him over my shoulder. There’s no denying this will happen again. His big dick energy actually matches his cock—and he knows how to use it. But I’m not about to stroke his ego.

“You’re a decent fuck, Gage. Don’t ruin it with your mouth.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” The dark promise in his voice sends a shiver through me. “I’m going to ruin you with my mouth. And my fingers and my cock.”

I slip on my shirt before stepping into my shorts and tugging them up my legs. It takes a few bouncing hops to get the fabric over my hips and ass so I can button them. I grab my shoes and bra off the floor before heading towards the door.

“I’m leaving,” I say over my shoulder. “Don’t follow me.” I spare him one last glance as I reach for the doorknob.

He lays on the sofa completely naked, his gorgeous tattooed body on full display. The wicked expression on his face makes it look as if Satan himself is planning to make me his queen of the underworld. Our eyes clash in a silent conversation. Flicking the lock, I yank the door open and strut out.

It doesn’t matter where I go. He’s always following.

Chapter Eight

Gage

Her outfit is for me.

The strapless black top that leaves Jill’s entire chest, neck, and shoulders bared to the world, covered in hickeys and bite marks, is all for me. Yesterday I finally got to fuck her. Today, Jill stood in front of her mirror, saw my marks, and made a choice. She got dressed knowing that everyone who looked at her would see that she’d been marked.

By me.

Gratification—dark and insatiable—courses through me, making my cock stiffen. Whether she wore this outfit because of me or to spite me, I don’t give a shit. Either way, Jill woke up, looked in the mirror, and thought of me. It was the marks made by my mouth that forced a decision.

Even if it was just a few minutes, I occupied her mind, planting seeds of permanence. It won’t be long before I’ve invaded her subconscious so thoroughly there will be no chance of eradication.

And thinking about me deserves to be rewarded.

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