Page 144 of Making Choices

I barely manage to catch it.

My attention has been captured by the bare pussy she just flashed.

“Take it back, or I’ll shave your pretty mane off in your sleep.”

Her threat doesn’t register with me because her panties fall out of her other boot after she pulls it off to lob it at me as well. We both freeze, our gazes dropping to the incriminating wad of torn lace and silk.

My mouth runs away from me. “’Spose you ripped them on the table too?”

Shock enters her expression, but Cherub plays it off by tossing her boot at me.

Since the movement treats me to another glimpse of pink pussy, her shoe smacks me in the gut. Mouth open, I gape at her, even as I realise that she has no idea what she’s done. I try to shake off the lust that’s got its hooks in me.

Try to pretend like this is a normal night.

“Oh, it’s on now,” I joke as I take a running leap onto her bed.

Cherub kicks out at me.

I straddle her waist and tickle her.

She bucks and squirms beneath me, shrieking as I torment her.

My dick apparently missed the memo about this being a platonic interaction.

It hardens.

I freeze again.

“Shit.” I climb off her bed. “I’ll see you in the mornin’. Sleep tight.”

Breathing hard, I get the hell out of Dodge.

In my bedroom, I strip as fast as I can. With a cock that could carve granite and the vision of Cherub’s pussy in my head, I climb under the covers. My hand snakes around my length and I start jacking myself off like a teenage boy who’s finally gained access to his dad’s porn mags.

This isn’t the first time I’ve wanked with the idea of Cherub in my head. But it is the first time I’ve been able to picture her pretty cunt while chasing my release. I’m on the cusp of coming when there’s a knock on my door.

My dick is still in my hand when I rasp, “Cherub? What do you need?”

She pops her head into my room.

Her face is tear stained.

Clutching a bottle of Tequila to her chest, she fights to stop her bottom lip wobbling.

“Cherub?”

My duchess reverently lifts the bottle like it contains the answers to life.

“I need a drinking buddy.”

Doing my best to camouflage my hard dick and the grip I just had on it, I secure the covers over my lap, then pat the mattress next to me. Cherub continues to fight back tears as she drops the bottle to the floor so she can crawl up my bed toward me. Her bare tits sway, fully exposed to my hungry eyes as the neckline of her loose tank top hangs low. I’m not sure how much she’s had to drink, but her movements are unsteady, and she falls onto her arse next to me.

My hand has a mind of its own. I circle my fingers around her throat and hold her in place to stop her from scooting around to sit next to me. The grip I have on her traps the necklace Venom gave her years ago between my palm and her skin.

It’s a karmic irony that infuriates me.

After a heartbeat, Cherub tries to move out of my reach.

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