Page 41 of Bake the Town Red

Me.

She’s a spider watching the fly getting close in her web. She doesn’t make a sound as she’s trying to catch me.

Doesn’t she realize I’ve always been hers?

That I’m living without the other half of my heart for her?

“You’re soaked. For me.” I circle my tongue around her lips. Bury my face in her pussy and suck. Taste every inch of her.

I’ve licked her cunt throughout the years. One quick swipe of my tongue when she was asleep.

Never like this.

Her tremors and eyes—her fucking eyes—there’s no comparing anything I’ve done in the past to this. Day and motherfucking night.

“Oh, fuck,” she cries when my free hand spreads her pussy lips. When I suck harder on her clit. “Oh, fuck, Tyler.”

I don’t slow. Sure as shit don’t stop. Swirl my tongue on her clit. Blow on it, then suck on her again.

She shivers so hard she can barely stay upright. The wall holds her weight. My hands on her panties do too.

I gaze up at her, at those blue eyes I’m obsessed with. “Such a greedy cunt you have. Do you still want me to leave, or do you want more, Dahlia?”

“Please. More. Please.”

I need to be inside her. Or at least make her come before her last customer for the day arrives.

“I put up theClosedsign. Didn’t lock the door.” Her juices drip down her thighs. I drag my tongue along the wet trails. “But just in case anyone walks in, tell them to leave.”

“Why’d you ask me that?” She breathes hard. Her body leans into me. “So you can bite off my clit without interruptions?”

“Dirty girl.” I punish her by clasping my teeth on her sensitive, hard clit.

Then my lips and tongue kiss and lick and suck her. She moans and grasps at my hair.

Her back arches, her grip on my hair is as desperate as I feel. “Don’t go. Don’t ever go, Ty.”

Our gazes clash. I lift my lips from her pussy, hating that she’d ask that of me. That I’d be so close to saying yes.

“I’m fucked in the head for being here. You’re just as fucked up for letting me do this to you.” This isn’t an answer. Those are the only words I have for her. “We’re here now. And no one will get in the way. No one will stop me from making your virgin pussy come all over my mouth.”

Those are too many seconds spent talking instead of eating her out. My tongue returns to flick on her clit, my fingers shoved in her hot, dripping cunt.

“Does this”—her moan comes with a thump on the wall when she thrashes her head back—“mean we’re back to talking?”

“Don’t know.” I should’ve said no.

I barged in here on an impulse. My muscles were responsible for me being here. My broken, tattered heart demanded I walk in.

I should leave.

She has to come first. The territorial animal side in me won’t have it any other way.

“Fine, asshole.” Her fangs peek. A threat. “Make me come. Then you owe me a date.”

My cock jumps in my jeans. Maybe we could and—

Cardiac arrest. Choking on food. The wall in that miserable apartment collapsing on her head.

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