Page 232 of Outlaws of Tulsa

He doesn’t respond, which means he must agree with me. The thought of not being tugged into Mom’s motherly hug because she is afraid of me causes bile to creep up my throat.

“That’s a lie you tell yourself,” he says finally, words barely audible.

“Lies are just another version of the truth.”

I’m no longer interested in discussing my family. Cove has proven to be a distraction and that’s exactly what I need right now. I need him panting and begging. Anything to stop my mind from whirling with possibilities and what-ifs.

What if Mom isn’t afraid of me?

What if they still love me, even like this?

The ridiculousness of it all fucks with my head. Rising frustration builds and builds until it looms over me like a tidal wave of self-loathing threatening to drown me.

Cove’s scent grounds me.

Refocuses me.

Soothes me.

I press my lips to his neck, gently at first, and then suck his soft flesh into my mouth. He lets out a groan that sets me on fire. I’m overwhelmed with the need to paint his neck blue and purple, leaving little reminders of what we did all over his skin.

“Dragon.”

His voice sounds like a plea for me to stop, but it also sounds like a chant for me to go-go-go. I’m ravenous to taste him all over and hungrily nip at his collarbone on my way down his chest. I straddle his waist, loving the feel of his erection throbbing beneath me. My fingers find their way to his new nipple piercings and I tug. He winces, but he bucks his hips up like maybe he likes the pain. I flick them both.

“Ow,” he complains, a seductive grin betraying him.

“You like it.”

He doesn’t argue. There’s no point in denying the way his needs match mine. For all the shit I’ve been dealt in this life, this one thing right now feels pretty fucking good.

“Flip over,” I command. “Now.”

Panic flickers in his blue eyes, but the moment I sit up on my knees, he rolls onto his stomach. His back muscles flex and tighten with each ragged breath he takes. I run my finger down the ridges of his spine until I reach the hint of his ass crack showing above the waistband of his boxers.

“These are coming off.” The rumble in my voice vibrates down my chest and straight to my dick. Every part of me is wired and buzzing for him.

I scoot back so I can pull them off his ass. It’s a nice ass—a perfect bubble of muscle and pale skin. I’m going to bite it and smack it, marking it as mine. He lets out a soft breath when my lips press to the base of his spine. I kiss my way along the crack of his ass, needing to find new parts of him. Smacking his ass cheek, I grin at the irritated growl that comes from him. The skin smarts red from my abuse.

“Are you going to fuck me?” His voice is shaky and raw. Slightly terrified.

“Yeah,” I murmur, spreading his cheeks so I can see his hole. “With my tongue.”

The dark pink pucker clenches, which I find amusing. As though he’ll be able to keep me out at this point. That’s not going to happen. I tease the tip of my tongue around the hole, feeling each wrinkled groove. His entire body shudders, which has me smirking in satisfaction. I’ve never eaten ass before, but I haven’t ever wanted to until now. Now, it’s all I can think about.

Flattening my tongue, I begin lapping at his tender spot, getting him nice and juicy. After enough teasing, he uses his knees for leverage, pushing his ass closer to my face. I nip at his ass cheek before going back to his needy hole.

“Anyone ever been in here?” I murmur, my words hot against his wet flesh. “Or is it mine?”

“J-Just my own fingers.”

My dick twitches at the thought of him fingering himself when all alone.

“Who does it belong to now?”

“Fuck,” he whimpers. “You.”

I like the sound of that. His pretty, tight hole belonging to me. To reward him for his obedient words, I suck on the pucker hard enough to make him groan and then press my tongue inside him.

---