Page 126 of Tangled Kisses
Damn, but I amsohere for it.
We stumble toward the bed, shedding clothes, buttons scattering. She shoves me down onto the mattress, straddling me, and that’s when my default setting kicks in—pleasing her. Making the moment all about her.
“Lie back.” My hands roam her curves, greedy, rough, reverent all at once. “Let me taste every inch of you. Your sweet pussy, your soft skin—I want it all.”
But Reese shakes her head, her dark hair brushing her jaw. Her eyes blaze as she leans close, defiant and wild. “Not this time.”
“Reese.” My jaw clenches, the primal need to command bleeding through. “Don’t test me. I’ll tie you up and worship this beautiful body until sunrise.”
Instead of obeying, she slips off me, shimmying out of her skirt and tossing it aside, her bare skin radiant as she crawls back toward me. My cock throbs painfully against denim, because fuck, she’s a goddess.
And then she ruins me for any other woman. Forever.
She sinks to her knees on the mattress, crawling like a slow and deliberate predator disguised as temptation. Her mouth finds my thigh first, teeth nipping through denim hard enough to make me growl. My fingers fist the sheets, because if she keeps this up, I’ll come undone fully clothed.
She drags her tongue over the bulge of my cock, the rough scrape of fabric only amplifying the ache. I choke out an uneven breath, lungs burning, hips bucking against her mouth with no sense of control. She takes her time, licking up the rigid line of my stomach, leaving a trail of fire that burns through every nerve.
I’m seconds away from exploding—every muscle strung tight, every ounce of willpower unraveling. Holy fuck, I can barely breathe, and she knows it.
When she finally reaches my chest, she pauses as her lips press a soft kiss right over my heart.
“This will always be my favorite part of you,” she whispers. Then her eyes darken, her mouth brushing mine. “But tonight, every inch of you belongs to me.”
That single kiss guts me. I’ve had every kind of sex—kinky, vanilla, filthy, detached. But devotion? This? It’s brand new. And it’s tearing me open in ways I can’t recover from. If I thought she’d say yes, I’d drop to one knee right now.
She rises, fierce and tender all at once, then works my belt loose, unbuttoning my jeans with maddening precision. My hips arch on instinct, desperate, letting her drag them down.
Her nails skim my length through the thin barrier of fabric, and my body betrays me, bucking up into her touch like a starving man lunging for scraps. I’m seconds from exploding, and she hasn’t even bared me yet.
“Belleza.” It’s all I can manage. The swirl of emotions is too much right now.
She slides my briefs down inch by inch, her mouth following the path of skin she frees. A kiss to my hipbone, a slow lick down my thigh. Every nerve lights up, and I swear my spine’s going to snap from the pressure.
“You’re not the only one who can tease, cowboy,” she murmurs, voice sultry, claiming.
“You can tease me all night.” My control’s gone, shattered the second her tongue skims the edge of my cock. I choke on air. “Christ, you’re killing me.”
Her hand wraps around me, stroking once, deliberately, before her gaze lifts—dark, unbridled passion.
I’ve seen that look before. Clients gave it to me all the time. Admiration, awe, lust. It was an ego stroke—literally. I knew damn well what I was. Thick, wide. A cock built to satisfy.
But this is different. This is Reese.
I don’t want to be worshipped like some body she paid for. I want to be wanted. Chosen. Desired byher.
“You don’t have to—” I start, the words choking out of me, but she shuts me down with a sharp shake of her head.
“Be quiet,” she whispers, eyes blazing. “I’m admiring the view. And what a gorgeous view it is.”
Then her lips part, and she takes me in.
Holy. Fuck. The first slick slide of her mouth has me seeing stars. Velvet heat surrounds me, her tongue circling my head in languid swirls that unravel me. My back bows off the bed, every muscle straining. I can’t hold still, can’t breathe, can’t think. My hand knots into the sheets, the other twitching, desperate to bury itself in her hair.
“Show me what you want,” she breathes between strokes, her voice low, fierce.
But the words won’t come. I’ve never been allowed to want. My body was for others—performance, service, release. Never me. My needs never mattered.
“Anything’s fine,” I rasp, the old reflex spilling out. Safe. Empty.
