Page 67 of Pretty Little Lies

“You don’t have to buy it yet,” Reeve professes. “But?—”

“I do.” I grip his shirt and ball it into a fist under my fingers because I need…support. I want his confidence that freely drips off him. “Just…fuck me over, and I’ll hit you in the balls so hard you’re going to taste yourself. Got it?”

“I’ll give you the hammer…or your shoe? How would you want to do that exactly? I can—” My mouth crashes into his, and in perfect harmony, as if we’ve been doing it forever, our tongues lash out against each other’s in the next brush of our lips.

Our once gentle kiss is starved. He opens his mouth wider, and I faithfully follow, lying one of my palms on the planes of his chest and feeling his erratic heartbeat.

You can’t fake that.

And we’re playing a dangerous game of Romeo and Juliet right now.

Fingers lace in my hair, drawing my chin upward as he peppers short and hasty kisses down my jaw and to the column of my throat where he goes in for the attack.

He sucks on my skin, producing the thought that he may leave marks to show off that I belong to someone as he loosens his hold. That he wants to subtly express that I’m not to be fucked with, especially in front of his boys outside.

His arm wraps around my back as he dips and lifts me in the air. Pivoting, he knocks into something when my arms wrap around his neck. My fingers thread through the thick strands of hair that remind me of warm sand and being buried underneath it. His mouth never leaves my skin as he licks and surprises me by biting down on me once, earning a small squeal to which he smiles against my skin.

Setting me down on the soft, plush couch, he comes down to his knees between my thighs. Those shards of mixed greens and browns assault my senses, causing my limbs to become jelly, and my breathing to only hitch because this is all too much. So much different than Torin.

No blood relation with Emilio.

He licks at his bottom lip, and I practically launch myself at him, pulling him back with me before our mouths are fusing together. We’re a fucking perfect mess as my hands roam the hard muscles of his biceps and chest and his fingers are impatiently unbuckling and ripping at my jean shorts.

They’re yanked down my thighs as I lift my ass to half-assist. He doesn’t even spare me a second to pull my feet out from thembefore he’s spreading my thighs wide. My bottom lip is captured and softly sucked on when the pad of one finger slides down my still-clothed slit.

I moan when he circles the sensitive area, tasting me lick by lick with his tongue and driving back any fear of what could happen after this. My body buzzes in excited anticipation as I reach for him, but he quickly catches my hand and lightly squeezes it. But then he allows me a brief sample of what he’s operating with, running my palm down his hard length, and I can’t help but slightly squeeze because I want it.

I fucking wanthim.

Reeve’s growl is captured by our lips, and I work determinedly, silently coaxing him to let me have it. To take me and want me and not hold who I am over my fucking head.

I stroke him again with his hand still on mine and my pussy clenches when I feel him flinch under my skin.

“Reevie,” I whimper as he comes back to kiss me again. To keep our lips fused together because the thought of us not kissing isn’t what he has in mind.

And, fuck me, he’s one hell of a fucking kisser.

Likekissing me until I don’t remember shit about my pastkinda good.

My cotton thong is pulled to the side, and that’s when he disappears. My body mindlessly leans forward, searching for him.

Down there.

Without hesitation, that wicked tongue lashes out against me, eating me out like a last meal, not coming up for air, asking me how I like it, or if I need a minute.

No, this man goes in for the fucking kill shot.

My thighs twitch when I feel the warmth of his tongue petting my clit. His soft lips sucking it in his mouth as heexplores and finds all the ways that drive me absolutely fucking insane.

Pressure falls at the base of my spine, followed by the tingling sensation of my orgasm waving hello and, soon, goodbye.

Falling onto the cushioned sectional, I bring my feet up to rest on the couch and open my legs wider. I feel shameless with him, powerful even. Those stunning hazels of his are dark when they strike up to gape up at me. They’re unholy, profane, and absolutely breathtaking.

His tongue delves inside me as he watches every move I make, every expression. His thumb grazes my clit as he teases me with what’s entering my cunt but what couldreallybe penetrating me with.

“Fuck…Reeve…” My back arches for more as the muscles in my stomach begin to flutter.

He still doesn’t come up, doesn’t bother to give me a slight break to show me that cocky and sexy smirk he’s always displaying in my direction.

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