Page 57 of Keep It

I bristle. “No it’s not.”

“Anya,” he says slowly, placing his hands on my shoulders. “You’re posh.”

I gasp and shrug his arms off. “Take that back!”

“God, all those comments about my fancy hotel and my sushi preferences and you’re hiding this in the back pocket.”

“I am not posh,” I bite.

“You’re a little Champagne Socialist, that’s what you are.” He taps my nose and brushes past me through to the living room.

I follow him and watch as he settles on my couch. I try really hard not to recognize how at home he looks there, how he would look sprawled there every day.

“Want a drink?” I peel my eyes away from him before my mind runs too far away.

“Don’t worry,” he looks around. “The butler will be here shortly.”

I throw one of my freshly plumped pillows at him as he laughs, but before I can get in a second swing, he grabs my arm and tugs me towards him.

I collapse onto him and his hands clutch my waist as he presses his lips to mine. He swallows my moan as his tongue teases me.

My hands find his hair and tug, until he’s leaning against the cushions and I’m straddling his lap. He kisses his way down my neck, the hands under my ass grinding me against him. My breath hitches as the bulge beneath his jeans hits just the right spot.

In a smooth motion, he grasps my thighs and twists us so I’m underneath him and his delicious weight squishes me. His lips return to my neck, his tongue licking at my skin like a live wire igniting my blood.

His hand wanders up my shirt and he groans into my mouth when he discovers the bare skin underneath. A good decision to forgo the bra I guess. He tugs my shirt off, exposing my peaked nipples to the cool air. His fingers flick over my nipple and he squeezes my breast in his hand, following the movement with his mouth. He travels down my body, kissing and licking my skin until he nestles between the cradle of my thighs.

My heart pounds in my ears as he unbuttons my jeans. He gives me space to pull them off and fling them across the room. He rips his t-shirt over his head, allowing my hands to roam across his torso, tangling my fingers in his dark chest hair. A small voice in my head reminds me to consider how I look, to contort my body so there are no rolls on my belly, but the wet kiss he presses to my inner thigh distracts me. His strong hands grip the outside of each thigh and wrench them further apart. His nose brushes against my folds and he presses a light kiss to the bundle of nerves begging for attention.

“Fuck, Anya,” he groans. “You’re so wet. Have you been like this all day baby, waiting for me?” He kisses the crease of my thigh and looks up at me with hooded eyes.

“No,” I lie, my eyes fluttering closed. A sharp bite on my inner thigh has them flying open again and a shudder runs down my spine.

“Liar,” he returns his attention to my parted thighs. “I bet you’ve been thinking about this all day.” His breath brushes against me, making my breath catch in my throat. “Been thinking about my cock all day haven’t you, freckles?”

I can’t take it anymore. “Yes,” I whimper. “Please.”

“Because you asked so nicely.” His tongue swipes with a strong lick and my back arches off the couch. Danny consumes me with a frenzy, licking and sucking and kissing. He lifts my hips off the cushion and closer to his mouth, like he could swallow me whole.

I watch as his breathing grows frantic and his eyes flick up to mine. His smoldering gaze combined with his wicked tongue sends me careening over the edge.

I catch my breath and he releases me with a final kiss to my sensitive flesh, lowering me back onto the couch.

He falls forward and presses his lips to mine. Before, with other men, I would have turned away before they kissed me, but with Danny I chase his lips as he pulls away, desperate for another taste. He kisses my cheek gently before lying between my open legs, his head resting on my heaving chest.

My eyes close as the comforting weight of his body and the affect of my orgasm almost lulls me to sleep.

“I can hear your heart,” he says softly.

“Hmm?” I murmur, not quite back on Earth.

“Yeah, it’s saying ‘Danny-gives-the-best-head.’”

I laugh and flick his cheek. “Don’t call it head.”

“What am I supposed to call it? Licking the bean?”

I grimace, “It’s called cunnilingus.”

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