Page 106 of The Best Kind of Bad

But most of the time, I’m just a run-of-the-mill fuck up.

69.

Marnie

The sound of a mourning dove singing her sad song filters through my dreams. I wake up, peering out the window. Judging by the indigo sky, the way it’s threaded with electric orange, it’s still early.

This is the pre-show before the sunrise. Back at my little house in Lincoln, the trees are so dense I never really see the sunrise. Out here, with an endless horizon, the sunrises are nothing short of magnificent.

I feel a warm weight on my waist and turn to peer at Dusty. He’s got those muscled arms wrapped around my body.

Even sleeping, he’s got a little frown pinching his brows.

Things have been… different since that whole shit show with Skunk and Sheriff O’Neil. My big, boisterous man has been subdued. I hate to see it.

It makes me want to pick a fight with the world. Demand to know why they can’t let a supernova shine. I turn in his arms and gently run my fingers through his hair. My fingertips trace down his scruffy, square jaw, following the hard tendons in his neck. I pause there, feeling his strong heartbeat pulsing beneath his skin.

My fingers travel across his chest, following the familiar hills and valleys of his torso. I stop at his boxers, hooking a finger under the elastic band.

Who gave him permission to put those back on?

The night before, he ‘loved me up’ as he would put it. I can still feel the vague impression of him moving inside me. The memory alone has me lighting up like a Christmas tree. Squeezing my thighs together, I tug his boxers down far enough to find his morning wood.

My hand curves around the warm shaft, reveling in the way it hardens, waking up to my touch. His skin is so soft, but the shaft itself is like a steel rod. I lean forward and kiss him. Trailing kisses down his shaft, I broaden my tongue and drag it back up. I pop the head in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it, lingering.

He likes it slow at first. A little teasing.

Sucking gently, I coax him out of his dreams. He takes in a deep breath, letting it back out in a groan. He chuckles quietly, threading his fingers through my hair. “God damn, you know how to do a wake-up call.”

I run his tip across the ridged roof of my mouth. He growls his approval, fingers tightening in my hair. He tugs a little, and a muffled moan escapes my throat. Sucking in another breath, he puts his hands on my shoulders. “Get your ass up here, baby girl. I want to fuck that pretty pussy.”

I ignore him, sucking harder. Without warning, he grabs my hips and hauls me around so that I’m laying on his chest. My hand still grips his cock, but I’m distracted. He spreads my thighs so that my knees are on either side of his shoulders. He bites my inner thigh. Not too hard, but hard enough. “I’m marking my territory.” He murmurs. “Be a good girl and suck that cock, baby.”

I hold the base of his cock and pop the head back in, but I’m distracted by the kisses he’s feathering around my center. He flattens his tongue, keeping it soft and supple, and lays it over my clit. His tongue glides up to my center before flicking inside and starting over at the clit. He’s not attacking me. His touch is borderline teasing, tickling, but it’s making my nerve endings sing.

I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks out, moaning.

He grunts, planting his hands on my hips. “Fuck. Feels good when you use your voice, baby.”

His hands pin me to him, and his lips circle my clit, sucking gently. He sucks it in hard and fast, only to release it agonizingly slowly. When his tongue starts to flutter over it, I know I’m a goner. He seems to sense that, too. Slapping my ass, he lifts my hips. “On your back.”

I climb off him, turning around. He flips me onto my back, pushing my thighs apart so that he can settle between them. Nudging his tip inside, he thrusts forward, burying himself deep inside. It stretches me, sudden and domineering, but I like the shock of it.

Breath hisses through his teeth. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet.”

I arch against him, clinging onto his back for dear life.

“You keeping that pussy warmed up for me?” He murmurs, nipping at my neck.

He’s fucking me faster, robbing me of the majority of my vocabulary. I think I manage to nod.

He thrusts in again. “You’re always ready for this?”

I nod into his chest, fingernails digging slightly into the corded muscles of his back.

“Me, too.” He sighs, finding my mouth with his.

His tongue invades my mouth, conquering it, taking what is his. Which is damn-near everything. He has my devotion, whether he knows it or not. When we’re like this, connected like this, it’s just him and me. We can tune out all the noise.

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