Page 113 of Lana Pecherczyk
“So I was thinking…” She tapped her chin, studying their options. “I know we don’t technically have to use these, but I reckon we may as well give some a go, right? I mean, when will we get a chance like this again?” Those bright eyes found his. “Okay, you go first. Tell me your fantasies.”
His mind emptied like a bucket with the bottom kicked out. “Me first?”
She picked up a toy, testing its weight in her palm with a deliberate smack. “What about this one?”
He reluctantly dragged his gaze from her face and nearly choked. She wielded a long, curved dildo studded with diamonds down its considerable shaft.
He coughed. Thumped his chest. “No.”
“No?”
“Sparkles, I might be open to a lot, but not that.”
“You sure?” Evil glinted in her eyes as she stroked the toy’s length. “We have oil and everything.”
“Wait … are you serious? Is that your fantasy … to put that … in me?”
“What if it was?”
Blood drained from his face, pooling somewhere near his feet. “Then I guess…” He swallowed hard. “I guess we’re here to get to know each other. Whatever you want.”
“Oh my god, you dork.” She snort-laughed and gave him big, watery eyes. Affection flooded their bond like warm honey.“I wasn’t being serious.”
“My ass is safe?”
“For now.” She tossed the toy aside, prowled to him over the bed on hands and knees, and straddled his hips again. Her windways flared around her thighs as she leaned forward, hair falling around them like a silken curtain, her breath warm against his mouth. “I was just trying to break the ice.”
He arched up, closing the gap between their lips. The contact fried his brain, but when she kissed him back, all slow, deep, and slippery tongue, her taste fried his entire body. If her eyes and emotions didn’t convince him she was all in this, her kiss did. It was his new addiction.
“Fuck the basket,” he growled against her mouth. “I only want this.”
“But we have to share three things. It was specific.” She pulled back to meet his eyes, but he wasn’t looking. His attention was trapped by the way her swollen lips formed the perfect, O-shaped pout that made his cock throb.
“River?”
His head fell back against the pillow, and he glared at the slatted ceiling, mind racing, fingers flexing on her hips. The caravan rocked beneath them, its gentle sway mocking his internal chaos.
“Okay,” he said. “Three things. Should be easy since you know nothing about what I like.”
“Wait.” Her finger pressed against his lips, silencing him. “I want three secret,personalthings. Not normal things because I’ll share something I’ve never told anyone else.”
His brows lifted, a thrill dancing through his soul. Against her finger, he asked, “Not even dickface?”
“Especially not him.”
Hot, possessive pleasure shot to his groin. “Personal things or sex things first?”
“Sex things.” Her playful smile faded to something deeper, more serious. “But I want personal things later.”
“Here’s my first sex thing.” He surged upright so fast that she tumbled backward, but he steadied her spine with his splayed hands. The movement inadvertently arched her back, pushing those full breasts like an offering through his tied shirt. Since their first meeting, he’d imagined countless ways to worship them, but one fantasy burned brightest.
“I want to fuck your tits,” he growled.
“Really?” Uncertainty colored her voice. “But they’re so…”
“Big, full, perfect?” His mind spiraled into delicious darkness. He dropped his face into her cleavage and spoke from there, voice muffled against warm, feminine flesh. “I want to lather them with oil, sit on you and fuck between them until I paint a messy masterpiece on your face.” He pulled back, arching his brow. “That good enough for you?”
A blush bloomed across her cheeks. Her excitement surged through their bond.
