Page 147 of Never Die for a Sinner
Shame envelops me, Alex’s words replaying over and over in my head. That Levi is just using me and that when he’s bored, he’ll toss me to the side, just as he does with everyone else.
But . . . when I force myself to meet his gaze, it’s not any of those things I find. There’s a possessiveness in his gaze, so scorching hot, my skin burns under its intensity. Dark as night. As death.
Padding over to the shower, I suck in a shaky breath before I open the door. Levi watches me, and his eyes are icy, bottomless pits, deeper than hell itself.
I step underneath his arm, pressing my back flat against the shower wall. Some of the water drips off of him and slips over me, making me shiver.
His eyes open to meet mine—his frosty blue to my peridot green—and he doesn’t ask why I’m in his shower. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking when his nostrils flare, his gaze following the movement of my tongue darting out to lick a water droplet off my lip.
Silently, I slip my hand up his chest, looking up at him through my lashes. His breathing hitches, his abs flexing under my fingers. I can’t help but feel some sense of pride that I can havethiseffect on a man like Levi Cross. So daringly catastrophic.
“Ava,” he warns when I glance down at his cock, sitting hard between us. My mouth waters to taste him, my stomach feels like a thousand butterflies have taken flight. We’ve never done this, even though he’s tasted me a few times now. I’ve thought about it a lot. What it would feel like. If I would do a good job.
Fuck it.
Sinking to my knees in front of him, he curses under his breath. I look up at him, reaching up and wrapping my hand around his cock and stroking him once from root to tip. He’s impossibly hard, and faced with this new, daunting task, he’s also huge, and I wonder how he ever fit inside me.
His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb running over my wet lips, and his gaze searching mine. I don’t like this look. This serious contemplation of what I mean to him. Like maybe he took it too far and now he’s just as far gone as I am, while both of us refuse to admit it.
“Thank you for the flower,” I whisper, and his hand moves up to brush my hair back from my face.
“This isn’t what it was about,” he murmurs gruffly.
“No,” I reply, stroking him again. His hand goes back to the wall, and his abs tense in front of me. “This is just for fun.”
I feel powerful with him like this. At my mercy, instead of the other way around. I continue to stroke him slowly, agonizingly, and lean forward, the tip of my tongue sliding up the underside of his cock, over the vein there, until I reach the head.
“Fuck,” he rasps, his eyes fluttering closed, and I bite back a grin.
I lean back and run my tongue over his head, tasting the precum there. I get drunk on the taste of him, wrapping my lips around him and sucking just the tip.
“Fucking hell, Ava.” His voice is hoarse, and my pussy clenches at the bite in his tone. Like he’s trying to let me take my time, but he desperately wants to push himself to the back of my throat and fuck me.
My knees are sore from the hard tile, and my back is in protest, but I ignore it all, delighting in the way he groans deeply when I slide him further into my mouth.
It’s been a long time since I’ve given a blow job. My ex always said I wasn’t good at it. To Levi, it seems like the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
He stares down at me, eyes on fire. Like he’d give me anything if I just kept going. This is what I’ve always wanted. Someone who makes me feel like I can be comfortable taking what I want.
He may be rough and crude. He may fight in underground fight clubs. He may say the dirtiest things to me when he’s inside me, but he’s got a soft side that can’t be beat, and I’m finding—with some dismay—that he’s only soft with me.
I stroke him into my mouth, taking half his length and withdrawing back to the tip. He’s so quiet, it’s like he’s afraid of scaring me off, and my mind is starting to run rampant. Like maybe I’m not doing as well as I thought, despite how hard he is for me.
“Am I doing a bad job?” I ask, breaking free from his cock. I continue to twist my hand in slow, even strokes, and when he looks at me, his gaze is scorching hot.
“Why the fuck would you say that, Ava?”
I shrug one shoulder.
“You’re quiet.”
“So?”
“You’re never quiet.” My cheeks flame, and I fight the urge to look away.
His hand leaves the wall, and he brushes away a water droplet clinging to my lashes.
“I’m completely obsessed with you, Ava Lynn. All I can think about is pushing into the back of your throat and fucking your mouth until you have more of me than breath in your lungs. Seeing your eyes fill with tears and your thighs clench because it turns you on to choke on my cock . . . that what you want to hear, baby?”
