Page 333 of Branded
I blinked, both hated and loved the concern on her face.
“God,” she whispered, gently running her fingertips over the large bruise on my side. “This has to hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s huge.”
I grinned.
She froze again, only this time amusement warred with annoyance. “Seriously?”
“Is this where I shouldn’t say, words a man lives to hear?”
A sigh. A roll of her eyes.
“Gorgeous?” I asked innocently.
“Yeah?” And hell, if I wasn’t making progress—if only because she didn’t hesitate to respond to the nickname I’d given her.
I crooked a finger. “Come here.”
“I’m naked and on top of you,” she replied tartly. “How much closer can I get?”
Sass.
She was giving me sass.
And I fucking loved it.
More progress.
But I didn’t focus on that, just filed it away to celebrate later as I settled my hands on her ass, as I coaxed her up my body.
Higher.
Higher.
Until she was hovering over my ribs, my shoulders, my…face.
“You can get closer,” I rasped.
And then I tugged her down.
Thirty
Jules
I was sitting on his face.
Oh lord, I was sitting on his face.
“I—” Um, did people do that?
I was going to suffocate him…with my pussy. The thought of which had another hysterical giggle bubbling up inside me—shock and amusement and more shock, which was apparently the theme of that evening.
Shock that I’d made the decision to leap.
Shock that he looked at me like I was precious, that he’d told me I was fucking beautiful, even with my baby pouch and the stretch marks on my belly…and my thighs…and my breasts.
