Page 88 of Outcast
He exhaled, relaxing a fraction. “Same.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Would you like us to be exclusive while we do this? No other partners?”
I asked like it was for him, but the truth was, my flare of jealousy tonight had told me I fucking hated the idea of Emory with someone else. Maybe this was just a sexual journey for him, but I wanted to be his only tour guide.
“Yeah,” Emory said hesitantly. “Is that…asking too much? I know this isn’t supposed to be serious.”
“The whole point of this is that you get what you need. Ask for anything you want. It’ll never be too much.”
“What about what you need, though?”
I let my gaze travel over him. “I’m getting exactly what I want out of this. Don’t you worry about that.”
His breath caught. “Yeah? I know I’m new to this. I want it to be good for you too.”
“Oh, it’s very good. Good enough that if we don’t change the subject, all this beautiful food will go to waste.”
He smiled tentatively, and goddamn, he was a beautiful man. Such a strong jawline but full, lush lips. His eyes were a blue that I used to think was cool and aloof, but like pools of water, they actually contained depths I hadn’t understood before now.
My heart gave a startled kick at the turn of my thoughts.
“Let’s eat,” I said gruffly.
Emory nodded and turned to his dish, cutting a piece of chicken drenched in marsala sauce. I wouldn’t have been sad to eat that either, but I popped a bite of steak into my mouth. Damn, that was so fucking good.
Emory flicked sidelong glances my way, laughing a little as I moaned over my food like a goddamned porn star.
“No wonder the rich brats eat there,” I said.
“Still calling me a brat after I fed you steak?” he teased. “I guess I’ll just have to try harder to earn your regard.”
Before I could respond, he slid to his knees. I watched, words caught in my throat, as he pushed his chair out of the way and settled between my legs.
“How about now?” he asked, looking up at me through his eyelashes. “Am I still a brat?”
I held my thumb and finger a millimeter apart. “Just a little bit.”
He leaned forward, laying his head on my thigh. My cock stiffened in my pants as his face got closer.
“How about now?” he asked.
“A little less.”
He pressed his face directly into my crotch, mouthing over the bulge in my jeans. I groaned. “Fucking hell, Em.”
He looked up at me, eyes playful. “How about now?”
“You’re about to becomemoreof a brat unless you get my dick down your throat right the fuck now.”
He laughed, delighted, and popped open my jeans. I helped him wrestle my clothes out of the way, tugging my cock loose and brushing the tip over those lips I’d just admired.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I managed.
He looked surprised. “Want me to stop?”
“No.” I bucked my hips forward, pushing into his wet mouth with a deep groan. “Your mouth is too hot to resist, golden boy.”
He made a muffled sound, then pulled back. “See? Not a brat anymore.”
