Page 114 of Rule Breakers Fall Hardest

I exhale, releasing the anxiety trying to take hold. He’s right. If I overthink this, I definitely won’t orgasm. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Focus on me. Focus on how you feel. Stop thinking.”

I nod forcefully. “I’ll try.”

It’s easier said than done, though, and moments later, clearly sensing those worries taking hold again, he changes tactics.

He sits up, causing the comforter to slip off our bodies, and yanks my shorts down. Then he lowers to the bed, using his shoulders to wedge my legs open wider.

With the first swipe of his tongue I bow off the bed.

I clutch the sheets, fingers tangling in the fabric as he devours me.

Quickly, pleasure builds inside me again. His mouth on my core renders me thoughtless.

I’ve had plenty of guys go down on me before, but to no avail. None of them devoured me the way Daire is. It always seemed more like an exchange, not like they were getting any enjoyment out of it. But Daire clearly loves it. He doesn’t hold back. Not with his mouth, tongue, or fingers.

I cover my mouth with my hand as a scream builds deep in my lungs.

He looks up from between my legs and fuckinggrins.

That little?—

My thoughts die again when he sucks at my clit.

There’s no stopping the orgasm as it barrels through me. I keep one hand securely over my mouth and reach down with the other to grip his hair.

I swear he says, “That’s right, baby. Ride my face.” But I’m so far gone to the pleasure I might’ve imagined it.

As I slump against the mattress, drained, he climbs back up my body and gathers me into his arms. His hard length presses into my backside. I’m dying to taste him, but I’m too tired to even broach the subject of returning the favor, and within moments, I’m out.

It’s still darkwhen I wake. Even in sleep, my mind is fixed on Sammy and whether he’s okay.

I reach out for Daire, but all I find are cool sheets.

My heart drops.

Did he move to the couch?

I slide out from under the covers, searching for my sleep shorts. When I finally find them stuffed under the sheet near the foot of the bed, I yank them on, then grab a pullover and slip it over my head.

Down the hall, I hold my breath and slowly turn the knob to Sammy’s nursery. The last thing I want to do is wake the sleeping infant, but I can’t rest until I check on him and Daire.

In the glow of the nightlight, I can just make out the form in the daybed we set up across from the crib. When I ordered furniture, it seemed logical to have a bed in here in case Sammy got fussy or sick and one of us needed to stay close.

Daire sits up as I enter the room.

“What are you doing?” he whispers, shifting over to make room for me.

“I was worried about Sammy.”

The daybed isn’t exactly big enough for two grown adults, but we make it work. He spoons me against his chest, wrapping his arm around me.

“Me too. But he seems fine.”

I take in the baby’s sleeping form through the slats in the crib. Peaceful. Unbothered. Too young to know about the cruelty of the world.

“Is this how all new parents feel? Scared out of their minds?” I ask him. “Not that I think I’m his mom or anything. I know I’m not, but I just?—”

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