Page 23 of Slick

“It is, so we won’t linger. But I’d like her to be able to browse a little, too.”

Maggie nods and gestures towards a nearby table where a large black box is waiting. “I’ve started you off with the platinum pleasure pack, but there’s a brochure with additional items you can select from.” Maggie is too professional to point out that I’ve tried most of her aids and already have my favorites. “There’s champagne and a few appetizers on the bar.”

Maggie is famous for her decadent oysters, but the last thing we need now are aphrodisiacs, and I’m relieved to see she’s also set out fruit and pastries. She gives a slight nod towards a door at the rear of the room. “I’m not far away if you want anything else.”

I thank her, then head over to the bar to pour us glasses of chilled juice. I wouldn’t mind a glass of bubbly to settle my nerves, but if there’s ever a time to keep a clear head, it’s during an unscheduled heat. I set the glasses and two small platters of food on the table nearest Diana. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

She turns to me on a wave of potent sweetness, her hands trembling as she picks up the juice. She gulps it down, shivering at the tart flavor. “I think I need a slick suit, Rowan. Do they have that here?”

Those fucking assholes for putting that shit in her head. “No, sweetheart, but I have something much better. Do you want to come and see?”

She looks torn, and my stomach pinches until she follows her over to the loveseat. She scoots close, her head nestled against my shoulder as she watches me peel the wrapper off a heat sucker. “Is that medicine?”

“Funmedicine.” I demonstrate by licking the top of the sucker, which is a dark pink and an unsubtle phallic shape. “It has a muscle relaxant in it to help with the cramps, although all you can really taste is its cherry flavor.”

She moves so quickly, she’s sitting in my lap before I’ve gone in for a second lick. Her thighs are warm where they rest against mine, her nipples hard as berries under the thin cotton of her shirt. If I wasn’t on edge before, now I’m one little wriggle away from shooting in my pants.

“Can I try?” she asks, and I nod numbly, watching as her tongue darts out and tastes the candy. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know what she’s doing to me as she licks up the shaft and then sucks on the tip. “Mmm, it’s delicious.”

“It is,” I croak, keeping my hips planted on the seat through sheer, stubborn willpower.

She licks until her lips are sticky and red, her gaze finally moving from the candy to my neck. My throat throbs as the heat of her stare burns into my gland. “Can I… taste that?”

She got pretty close back in my trailer, but now her mouth puckers, her hunger a heady cloud around us. “You can taste anything you want... oh, sweetheart.”

My head rolls back as she latches onto the gland, her tongue flicking greedily against the sensitive skin. She rubs her chest against me, those hard, little nipples making my mouth water. From the heat of her core to the hungry nips of her teeth, I’m a tuning fork of need, and I feel my balls pull tight as she says in a breathy whisper, “Can I kiss you, Rowan? On the mouth?”

I’ve been seduced more times than I can count – both on and off screen – but I’ve never felt my heart flip-flop so violently. If I don’t kiss her, I realize, I will regret it until my dying day.

“I’d like that,” I tell her, my hands sliding down her spine to rest on her hips. She shivers at the touch, but there’s an innocence about her as she leans forward, her mouth pressing softly to mine. She’s tasting as much as surrendering, her sticky tongue pushing between my lips with hungry licks. As she squirms closer, the heat of her pussy burns through my jeans, and I gasp against her mouth. “You're going to make me come. Oh, fuck! I… I just blew in my pants...”

And not just cum, butslick, leaking from my ass like a faulty faucet. I haven’t lost control like this inyears, and I feel my face burn in embarrassment, but Diana just squirms off my lap, dropping to her knees between my thighs. Before I can pluck a word out of the soup of my brain, she leans forward and sucks on the wet denim, her eyes wide as moons. “We shouldn't waste your slick,” she says, burrowing into me for another taste. “It's precious.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Rowan tastes even better than the cherry sucker.

I can’t get enough of his sweetness, burrowing into the damp patch on his jeans with a hungry whimper. They’re black, and tight, and hug his lean muscles like a dream, but it’s the taste that’s so addictive, the perfect blend of sweet and spicy. It sizzles on my tongue, a warmth spreading through my chest to rival the ache between my thighs.

“Can you take them off?” I ask, tugging at the denim. “I want to taste you with nothing between us.”

The groan that rips out of him makes my toes curl. “Sweetheart, I want that more than anything. But I think your heat is coming on fast. As much as I want your mouth on me, we should head for the hotel while we still can.”

There’s no hiding my pout, and he smiles as he leans down, cupping my face for a soft, lingering kiss. It steals my breath and makes my heart flutter, but it also stirs my insides with a heated spoon. I don’t just want his jeans off; I want him as naked as his little nesting doll. Then I want to kiss and lick him all over, tasting every secret space until I can burrow inside him, drunkon his sweetness, and drowning in his slick…

I blink, my face burning as I realize how loudly I’m panting. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“You’re just entering the haze,” he says as he swipes his thumbs over my hot cheeks. “It’s normal, just maybe a little quicker than expected.”

I don’t know what the haze is, except that it seems to be stealing my last, struggling scraps of reason. Every brush of my skin against Rowan’s is like another spark on a hungry fire, and I’m not sure if I want to smother it or let it rage out of control. “Okay. And you really think we should go to the hotel?”

A part of me is hoping he says no, especially with him stretched out above me like a plate of grilled cheese. I wrinkle my nose at the thought, adjusting the image to that beautiful cake in his cookbook – the one with the gooey filling that glowed like a crimson river. That’s how I imagine Rowan’s slick will taste. Decadent, creamy, and even sweeter than the marshmallows in a hot chocolate.

“Yeah, this place is good for shopping, but the security is better at the hotel.” He unfolds his elegant limbs and draws me to my feet, his arm going around me in a way I’m starting to obsess about. After all those years of being poked and prodded, you’d think I’d hate being touched, but this is different. Rowan isn’t trying to get something from me; he’s just offering his body for me to use, any way I need.

And I need him inlotsof ways. The flare of heat between my thighs makes my knees weak, and I clutch his chest as he picks up the fruit platter, handfeeding me pieces of fruit. It’s a nice distraction, the grapes popping on my tongue and the strawberries fat and sweet. Rowan smiles as I gobble them down, feeding himself in between my appreciative moans. I shiver when he chooses a chunk of pineapple, the tart fruit sweetened by his fingers as I lick away the juice. The urge to suckthem into my mouth is overpowering, and I look up at him with hooded eyes. “I need you, Rowan.”

“I know, sweetheart. Just let me grab that box and we can go.”

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