Page 50 of Serpentine

She realizes what’s happening and pulls her hand away. But she’s too close. It brushes across my face, the scent of her arousal coaxing a growl from me.

“Oh, my God, I was… I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me…”

She’s embarrassed. I smirk.

“I know what came over you because it was my name you were screaming, Bambi. You need me to finish what you started?” My hand slides over her stomach, and she moves away. I don’t miss the little gasp of excitement from her mouth.

“No. I’m fine. I’m embarrassed, but I’ll be alright.” She moves to get out of bed, and I grab the back of her shirt.

Only a shirt.

She’s a minx. One I want to fucking skin at the moment.

“Bambi, I think you should lie back down,” I tell her gruffly, throwing the blanket off the bed. It softly thumps to the floor in a pile of discarded fabric.

“I—” she protests, but I silence her, sliding my fingers through her folds.

“I said,” I twirl them over her engorged clit, “I think you should lie back down.”

“Oh, hell!” she whimpers, and something feral in me cracks its neck back and forth, getting ready for the moment she gives into us. Into me.

I’ve never encountered someone like her. Someone I’ve wanted to spank and care for and wanted to give my wrath and my problems. I’ve let her care for me. Even if she doesn’t know it, last night, her telling me she’d handle Miles so that I could dig in was something I’d have never listened to before. I would’ve stayed to prove her wrong.

But that was before.

Before her.

I’ve let her see me. I never let people see me.

She’s the one with all the power. She doesn’t even know it.

I slide my fingers toward her entrance, rimming it at a languid pace. She bucks off the bed, trying to get me to slip them inside her.

I pull them back. “You dirty little girl, you,” I scold, and she whines through the dark.

“Please,” she begs, and the desperation in her voice makes me want to pull my dick out and fill her tight cunt with it. To give her what she needs to sate the ache.

“Bambi, it won’t be with fingers when I fill this hole.”

“Then do it. Please, for the love of everything, do it!” She’s writhing on my hand that’s found her clit again.

She’s wanton and likely hungover, a terrible combination.

“It’s not time for that yet, sweet deer,” I tell her.

“I need more. Brax, will you—” Her head thumps on the pillow as she stifles a growl with her arm.

I hold back a laugh. “Will I do what? Say it, Aella. Tell me what you want.”

“Will you…lick it?”

I know she’s blushing. I can see it in my mind’s eye, and it’s a beautiful crimson rouge staining her creamy cheeks, and I know her heart is rattling away in her chest at the shame her veiled words caused.

But that’s an easy fix.

“Of course, Bambi. All you had to do was ask.”

Her groan of frustration with me is cut off when my tongue collides with her core—teasing, tempting, taking.

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