Page 85 of Brazen Deceits

I do as he asks, trying to figure out how to pry more from him. We opened the door a crack with our conversation, but I need it flung wide. “So your parents don’t think art’s a good path?”

He squats in front of me, carefully cleaning my cuts. “They think I’m delusional. But they have three other sons to compare me to, so I don’t know why they need a fourth perfect kid.”

“What makes your brothers so perfect? I like you a heck of a lot.”

He chuckles. “I like you too, princess. I think these will heal better without a bandage, so just be careful not to cover it until the cuts scab over.”

Scooping up my dress from the floor, I run the sleeve under cold water until it runs clear, then pour the hydrogen peroxide over the spot, the bubbles hissing as the chemicals lift out the last of the stain. “Walker? If you don’t want to talk about something, you don’t have to, but Iamcurious. About you, your life, all the things that make you amazing.”

Having tossed away the bloody cotton pads, Walker slips behind me, his sweater rough against my bare back, his arms tight around my waist. He presses a kiss on my shoulder. “I can think of better things to do than talk about how awesome my brothers are. I mean, one is literally working to find the cure for cancer. No, I think I’d much rather celebrate the fact that I have a super-hot, smart, brave girlfriend. What sort of things do you do to celebrate that, do you think?”

I lean against him, allowing the redirect. “Cake?”

“Hmm. Cake is good, but I can think of something better.” He kisses along my shoulder, dragging the strap of my bra down on his journey.

“Wine. That’s what you’re looking for,” I say, watching him in the mirror, his lids lowering as he lavishes my skin with kisses.

“Nope, not wine.” He unhooks my bra, pulling it off, staring at me in the mirror. I feel weird with the weight of his gaze on me, so I go to turn into his embrace, but he stops me.

“Balloons?” I squeak out.

“Not balloons. Not at all. Princess, don’t you see what I see?” he asks.

I shake my head, avoiding the awkwardness of staring at myself in the mirror. “What do you see?”

He turns me back to my reflection, bare from the waist up, giving me no choice but to look. One hand slides along my side before tracing a line around one breast, spiraling up and tweaking my nipple, pulling a groan from me. “I see a beautiful woman waiting to take her pleasure. I see skin I can’t wait to touch, to lick, to tease until you come unwound in my arms. I see breasts so fucking sensitive, it makes me wonder if I could get you to come just by playing with your nipples. I see lips that are soft as clouds, eyes that take everything in, a brain that spits out creative solutions to whatever problems crop up in your path. I see you, Clara, and you’re magnificent.”

“Walker,” I mumble, snagging his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.

He kisses a line down my spine, pulling off my leggings and panties, helping me step out of them until I’m totally naked in front of the mirror. Then he taps the insides of my knees, so I step wide, and he plants himself between my legs, his dark eyes glancing up at me full of mischief, wedged between the cabinet and me. He presses both of my palms to the edge of the counter. “Hold on, princess.”

He pulls close, his tongue teasing my entrance. Oh my.

I hold tight, my knees already shaky as he coaxes me higher and higher with just his mouth, his hands gripping the back of my thighs, everything so much and not enough at the same time.

My eyes flutter closed, my breath ragged, and Walker pulls away. “Princess, watch yourself. See how pretty you come for me.”

“Please, Walker.”

“A queen takes her pleasure. She demands it. Watch, Clara. Watch yourself shatter and rebuild stronger every time.”

His words sear, and I force myself to watch, my breath shallow as he teases me, stroking the fire inside me, building it into a blaze before he pulls my clit into his mouth, his tongue spiraling around the bud, sending fireworks exploding from my fingertips to my toes.

I force my eyes open as I shudder, my gaze hazy, my body flushed and glistening with a fine layer of sweat. Walker strokes the back of my thighs, watching me watch myself. “Good, princess, good.” His hands stroke up my sides, before sliding back down, and barely recovered from my first orgasm, he presses first one finger, then a second into me, stroking me as his mouth coaxes my body to build again. The flush of my skin darkening, my nipples painful peaks reflected in the mirror, my legs shaking with only one of his arms to support me.

My knuckles are white against the counter when I scream my next release.

Walker stills, his face shiny, a grin creasing hischeek. “Gorgeous.”

“Walker, I don’t think, I don’t know if I can,” I stammer, trying to tell him this is enough, it’s too much, but he presses a third finger into my channel, and I moan.

“Ask for it, Clara. Tell me what you want.” He teases my clit with his tongue, his hand slowly pumping into me. And I’m so goddamn full, the wet slurp of my arousal echoing around the small room, my panting breaths and whimpers adding to the tumult.

“Shit, Walker,” I say, my arms barely keeping me upright in front of the mirror.

He pauses and I whine, needing more of this torture.

“Tell me, Clara. Tell me what you want, what you need.”

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