Page 167 of Never Die for a Sinner
“I just want to forget,” she whispers, again, tugging her hand away from me.
She slips it down, cupping my cock through my slacks, and I grit my teeth at how fucking good it feels. I’ll never push her to do anything but fuck if I haven’t missed her these last three days.
“Just for a little bit.”
“Ava,” I grit, laying my forehead against hers.Christ, this woman’s going to be the death of me.“I can’t take the pain away.”
“No,” she breathes, stroking my cock in slow, painfully fucking slow movements. “But you’re the only one who can make me forget . . . even if only for a little while.”
And then it occurs to me.
I’d take everything she’s feeling right now, if I could. All the pain, guilt, shame, sadness. Fucking all of it, and it wouldn’t matter to me because she’d be happy.
Fuck, what has she done to me?
“Please,” she exhales against my lips when I catch her hand.
“Shhh . . .” I slip down on the couch, pressing a kiss to her cheek, her neck, the top of her breast peeking out from underneath her dress. I move lower, climbing down the couch until I’m sliding my hands up the outsides of her thighs. She’s so soft and warm, all I want to do is slip inside her and forget the world exists, but that isn’t what this is about.
I slip her dress up to bunch around her waist, and the moment my tongue slips through her folds, I let out a groan. Ava’s breath stutters, her body arching off the couch and into my mouth.
I swirl my tongue through her sweetness, nibbling on her clit and drawing those little sounds from her that drive me fucking crazy.
“Levi,” she murmurs, her eyes finding mine.
I break away, slipping a finger inside her and grinning at the way her eyes threaten to roll back.
“What, baby?”
“You’re being so sweet.”
“Am I not allowed to be sweet to my girl?” I rasp, angling that finger up to brush over that sensitive spot inside her.
“Not right now,” I shudder, and I notice the way her hand fists in the material of the couch. “Right now, I want to be your whore.”
Fuck. Me.
I run my tongue over my teeth, slipping my fingers out of her.
“You want to be my whore, baby girl.”
Instantly, her eyes change. From sad and soft, to warm and needy.
“Yes,” she breathes.
“Then sit on my face.”
She freezes, her eyes widening.
“What?”
I fall back against the other side of the couch. “Get up here.” I don’t leave room for any arguments.
Heat floods her gaze, her cheeks darkening in the pale glow of the lamp in the corner of the room.
Carefully, she crawled up my body, and when she gets close enough, I grab her hips and tug her onto my mouth.
She yelps, her hands fisting the shoulder of the couch above my head, and just when she’s about to open her mouth to speak, I silence her by tugging her up by the hips and sucking her clit into my mouth.
