Page 94 of Slay Ride

“Well, thanks for the heads-up. You can get the fuck out now.” Bennett starts pushing him toward the door, but he digs his heels into the carpet.

“Wait, what’s the pan for?” he says as he’s pushed across the threshold.

Bennett closes the door on him and turns to me.

“No, seriously,” I say. “What’s the pan for?”

He smiles at me, and a glimmer of mischief shines in his eyes.

“I’m not fucking a turkey, Bennett.”

His shoulders droop. “Oh, don’t be so fucking closed-minded.”

“I’m not. I’m closed-legged. You aren’t getting cold, slimy poultry skin anywhere near my pussy.”

“I didn’t plan on putting it in your pussy.”

My asshole pulls inward. “Get out.”

He takes a few steps toward me, and I grab a pillow and hold it up like a shield. If there’s one thing I’m beginning to understand, it’s that his touch does something to me. His kisses are an amnesia tonic, scrambling my brain and causing me to forget my self-respect.

If he works his magic on me, I’ll cave and degrade myself.

“Kitten, don’t be like that.” He steps closer and sits on the bed. “Look, if you aren’t comfortable, I’ll drop it.”

“No you won’t!” I toss the pillow at his head. “You’ll just kiss me and talk me into it with your tongue.”

He leans closer, and his body heat batters my exposed skin. “If you don’t want to do it, we won’t do it.” His hands snake beneath the blanket and caress my thighs.

Goosebumps rise on my skin, and he smirks. It’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going. His fingers wander higher, skating across my stomach beneath the thin satin. As he touches me, he looks into my eyes.

“I’m not a good man. I will never be a good man. But for you, I will be without reproach.” He leans down and kisses my stomach. “For you, I will muzzle myself and come to heel.” His lips part, and he sucks my skin into his mouth. His tongue swirls until I’m certain I’ll come right on the spot. “I will never be a good man, kitten, but I will be good toyou.”

A moan eases out of me as I allow my hands to wander over his shoulders. He stretches his legs behind him and moves the blanket so that he can kiss my thighs.

“If you say no, then the answer is no.” His warm breath brushes over the trail of wet kisses, sending a cooling breeze up my nightie.

On his stomach, he inches closer, until his mouth is only a breath away from my pussy. My toes curl as I anticipate the heat of his tongue melding with my sensitive skin.

“If you don’t want to play out my fantasy, what about one of yours?” He pulls my panties aside and runs his tongue through my lips. “God, I could eat you for every meal.”

“That,” I say. “That’s my fantasy. A man who can’t get enough of me.”

“Mission accomplished, then.”

He dives between my legs again, and I lean back. As he licks me and bathes my sensitive clit with attention, I should be lost to the pleasure. I mean, it feels fucking amazing. But my mind keeps wandering back to his suggestion.

What part of the turkey did he plan to put in my ass, exactly? And how did he plan to retrieve it? Are we talking a shit-on-my-chest scenario? Like . . . how far does this fantasy run?

“Bennett?”

“Hmm?” The sound vibrates against me, and my toes curl again.

“I have questions. About the . . . turkey.”

He keeps eating me out, only turning his head to say, “Ask away.”

“Okay, so I know the ‘where’ is my ass, but I’m still confused about the ‘what’ and the ‘how.’”

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