Page 1 of Pick Me

Prologue

Thea

“Right there,” I whispered, biting my bottom lip, my breath hitching. My legs trembled and my stomach tightened as I fought to hold back the impending orgasm.

So. Freaking. Good.

His tongue swept across my center, teasing, avoiding, making me squirm. I frowned, annoyed he was yet again ignoring my request. So I arched my hips, guiding him to where I needed it most.

Unfortunately, he missed the mark.Again.

“What are you doing down there?” I muttered, peeking one eye open.

His too-old baseball cap was the only thing I could see between my thighs. The thighs currently squeezing the life out of him.

Oops.

Maybe that was why he was ignoring me. I let my legs drop, and he pulled back, gasping for air, his face flush. Damp with sweat and my essence, he licked his lips and shook his head. “That was awesome,” he said, his eyes glazed as they raked over my body. The sight of him—wild, delirious, completely mine—was intoxicating, and possession flickered in my chest.

He belonged to me. I was safe to do whatever I wished with him.

Gripping my ass, his fingers pressed into my skin as he smirked. “Did you need something? I was kinda busy down there.”

I exhaled a shaky laugh, then something tight and unexpected tugged at my heart while looking down at this barrel of a man. It wasn’t just the desperation for an orgasm. It was something more. Something far worse.

Love.

Shit. Was I in love with him?

Before I could process the thought, he pushed a finger inside me, making me gasp, my spine arching. Typical. He never waited for answers—never listened—even when my legs weren’t wrapped around his head.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, watching me intently and reading my every reaction. Then he slid in another finger, stretching me and curling them to hit the perfect spot.

My fingers clawed at the sheets, struggling to hold on to the last shreds of my sanity.

“Why are you so good at this?” Throwing my head back, I growled. He was going to make me come, and for all the bragging I did about owning him, he owned me just as much.

With a growing smirk, he gazed at me with his deep-brown eyes. “Because I love pushing your buttons.”

Another stroke. Precise. Expert.

See. Hedidknow how to take direction.

“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes, only for him to add another finger.Fuck!I both hated and loved the way he unraveled me.

My feet slipped on the sheets as I tried to keep control of the situation. My legs opened wider. For what? More fingers?

“You take them so well,” he growled, his breath hot against my thigh. My body clenched, desperate and greedy.

“I can’t wait to fuck your pretty little pussy again.” His voice was pure sin, deep and dripping with hunger.

Not letting up, his hand worked faster as I clenched around his fingers. Then he added another one. If I’d been counting correctly—which would be a miracle at this point—then he had four fingers inside me.

One hand’s worth.

His thumb found my clit, circling in time with the relentless rhythm of his fingers. My body lit up, every nerve on fire, and I was close to losing control.

“You look so fucking pretty stuffed full of my fingers.”

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