Page 83 of Dirty Dancer

Liam’s message said Vaughn had picked her up. So rather than go to Liam’s, I just went back to the clubhouse. Probably why he told me. I didn’t bother to check with the rats working or anyone else. I wanted to see her.

Since the shooting at the club, I needed to be where she was and by extension, where Liam was often. The need had grown into an obsession, one that gnawed at me when too long passed without them. I didn’t question it, just followed the lines back to where they converged with them. It was better when they were both in the apartment.

I was halfway to Kel’s room to get to Emersyn’s when I doubled-back to Vaughn’s. The door wasn’t locked, so I let myself in with a brief knock. Old habits. While not even locked doors could keep us out, the unlocked door was an invitation I accepted. The soft whispery groan that greeted me couldn’t prepare me for the sight of my starling, straining upward as she sat on Vaughn’s face.

The flush to her cheeks just added to the perfection as she glanced over her shoulder to meet my gaze. I didn’t like looking in other people’s eyes. It wasn’t comfortable. But I loved her eyes.

I loved the way she moved. The soft sounds she made. I loved even more how she would look at me and how she never demanded anything.

Except my name.

She’d needed my name.

I’d give her anything really.

What was my name in the grand scheme of all that? I shut the door behind me and locked it. Vaughn left an invitation. I didn’t want to leave a second. Not right now. Not while heat flooded my body and something stirred deep within.

“Hi,” she greeted me on a breathy groan that stiffened my cock in a way that had grown increasingly familiar around her. Especially when she moved like she was now, her hips rolling and Vaughn’s hands gripping her.

I moved to the bed and knelt on the edge of the mattress. The constant torrent of soft, muted sounds escaping her were a balm and a provocation. I wanted to hear all of them. “Starling,” I said, but she dropped her head. I brushed my fingers against her chin, helping her to lift her head so I could see her. The flush to her cheeks deepened. Her eyes were huge pools of starlit darkness. I wanted to dive into them and never leave.

The transformation of her expression, as she opened her mouth and released the first notes of a keening cry, was an enchantress’s song I couldn’t ignore. I wanted to taste that pleasure in her. I wanted to tasteherpleasure. The stroke of my tongue against hers sent an uncontrollable shiver through my whole body.

Her kiss was the sweetest candy I’d ever sampled, a dark narcotic that instantly addicted me. I needed more. I cupped her chin, licking, sucking, teasing, and tasting as the soft sound of her cries grew in intensity. Every single one a lightning bolt to the voracious craving gripping my system. When she clasped my free hand and moved it to her breast, I sighed against her lips.

The smooth, suppleness of her skin was so fucking soft. Her nipple was taut and beaded hard. I tested the texture against my fingertips. It pebbled even tighter, the little bumps demanded exploration. When she didn’t reject my stroking, I pinched it, giving the faintest twist.

Not a stereo knob. The conversation the guys had a long time ago floated out of my memory. A disconnect from that moment and this, but it suddenly made sense. Not a radio knob. No, so much warmer, softer, and eager. She pushed against my hand, her back arching.

I had to release her mouth to kiss a path to that nipple. I wanted to feel it with my tongue and my teeth. Would it be as sweet as her lips. I sucked it against my teeth, careful not to bite and her strangled cry just made me increase the suction.

Her reaction coupled with the oddness of how it felt pushed me to suck harder. I wanted more. I wanted more ofher.

“Shift,” Vaughn ordered and I lifted my head as he pulled her from me. My objections died when he didn’t take her away so much as move her to her hands and knees as he slid out from under her.

His whole face glistened. It sent my gaze to where he gripped her hips. What would she taste like? Could I paint myself with her like he had?

“Hands and knees, Dove. Look up at Rome.”

“Fuck her mouth, Rome,” Vaughn said. “She likes the taste of cock, don’t you Dove.”

“Yours,” she admitted. “I like yours. I like Jasper’s” Then she stared up at me. “Can I suck you off?”

I could deny her nothing and I didn’t want to deny her. The question made my cock throb with a kind of painful pleasure. The pain was familiar, I’d needed it to make my art before, but this was different. This wasn’t about making anything or anyone happy except her.

And maybe me.

I slid off the bed and shed my clothes. Nudity had never been a struggle for me. I didn’t care if I was naked or someone else was.

The first body I’d ever seen that I wanted was hers. And I loved her all naked and soft, the golden light of the room kissed every single one of her curves. It painted her like she was the moon, basking in the light of the sun.

I wanted to capture the whole moment. I wanted to paint her just like this. But not out in the city.

No, this would be for me.

“May I?” The whispered question feathered her breath over my cock even as she drifted her hand out as though to touch me. The fact she hadn’t made me want to strain forward. I wantedhertouch.

“For you,” I promised her. I’d made that decision a long time ago. I’d painted her onto my dick. It had taken me several sessions with time to heal between each one. Vaughn insisted on the healing or I couldn’t use his tools. I’d inked her from memory, there was one video of her that had been done that I’d watched so many times. After downloading it to my phone, I could watch the four-minute-and-thirty-second clip anytime I wanted.

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