Page 65 of Unwritten Rules
I have never found giving head to be enjoyable—until this moment. With Tatum, it just feels… right. Like every other aspect of being with this woman. I don’t know how else to explain it, nor do I understand it. But I’m willing to see where this goes.
“Holy shit,” Tatum breathes, eyes finding mine as she sinks into the bed. “That was… insane.”
“The best you’ve ever had?” I raise a brow, a smirk tilting up my mouth.
“By a long shot.” Tatum pushes her hair out of her face and lifts up onto her elbows. “I can, you know, help you?—”
“Don’t even think about it,” I warn, crawling up her body until we’re eye to eye. She releases a tight breath, tucking her lip between her teeth. “I did this for you. I don’t need anything in return.”
“But I?—”
“But nothing.” Balancing on one hand, I use the other to trace a line down the valley of her full tits, stopping at her waist. “I owed you one for the way you blew my socks off with the head you gave in my car.”
Tatum smiles shyly. “Okay.”
“Now,” I say, lowering my head until our lips are brushing. Her wetness coats my lips and tongue. “What are we doing next?”
I wasn’t kidding when I told her to take the lead. Whatever she wants to do, or wherever she wants to take this, I’ll follow. If she decides she wants to end the night here, I’ll drive her home without complaint. But if she wants to take the next step, I’ll take the leap with her.
“I want you to fuck me.”
I blink down at her, my heart stilling in my chest.
Did I hear her correctly? Did those words come out of her mouth?
“Only if you want to,” Tatum quickly adds, as if worried she took it a step too far.
I slam my lips against her, pushing my tongue between her lips, forcing her to taste herself. She moans against my mouth as her arms come up to wrap around my neck, deepening the kiss. This woman drives me to near insanity with little effort, and I’m helpless to fight it.
I pull away from the kiss long enough to squeeze out, “Your wish is my command,” before my lips find hers again.
We’re a frenzy of tangled limbs and discarded underwear, our lips fighting to stay together. As soon as I have Tatum sprawled out beneath me in all of her naked glory—and those fucking nipple piercings—I waste no time entering her, shoving in all the way until I bottom out. Tatum clutches my shoulders and cries out, her nails digging into my skin. Her muffled cries against my skin remind me I need to take this slow, to allow her to adjust to me before I turn into a maniac.
“You okay?” I rasp, afraid to move for fear of hurting her.
“Yeah,” she strangles out, body tense and thighs hugging my waist. “I forgot how big you are.”
“Can I move?” I ask, voice tight. “Because if I don’t I fear I might come without so much as starting.”
Tatum laughs, the sounds sweet and airy as she nods. My hips pull back and roll forward at a slow pace, allowing Tatum to get used to me. My forearms strain from holding my body over her; the angle giving me a deeper position to fill every inch of her.
Our moans echo off the white walls, and I have to fight the urge to slam into her with the desperate need to feel closer to her than we already are. Each stroke and thrust has my vision blurring at the edges, and a low growl falls from my parted lips.
“You fit me fucking perfectly,” I grunt, chest tight. “Every inch of you was made for me, Tate.”
“I told you to fuck me, Sin,” Tatum squeezes out, jade eyes searing into mine. She arches her back, somehow allowing me to slip deeper inside of her. “So do it.”
Don’t come yet. Don’t come yet. Don’t come yet.
Fuckinghell.
“Jesus, Tate,” I grunt, my right hand coming up to toy with the metal bar through her nipple. “Too much.”
Tatum grins as she digs her nails deeper into my shoulders, meeting me thrust for thrust as I pick up speed. I must black out because one second, Tatum is lying beneath me, and then the next, I have her bent over the edge of the mattress, driving into her from behind.
This woman makes me feral in every sense of the word. Reckless is another word I would use when I’m with her. It’s as if I become a different person—someone I don’t recognise. Not in a bad way, by any means. I don’t feel like myself, but maybe that’s the point. Being someone else entirely when I’m with her means she doesn’t have to deal with the bullshit that comes with my life and she can just haveme. The real me.
“Fuck, Tate,” I growl, fingers digging into her hips. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
