Page 114 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
“Maybe I like it better when you’re not in control,” I whisper, my mouth at her ear.
“Then show me,” she dares, voice shaking a little. “Prove it.”
That’s all I need. I grip her ass and lift her. Her legs lock around my waist. She’s so tiny it’s ridiculous, but the way she presses her hips into me makes me feel like I’m the one being devoured.
If I ever doubted how badly she craves my cock, now I’m certain. I push her away, my heated gaze on her body.
“Strip,” I tell her. Instantly she nods, wriggling out of her oversized hoodie, tank top, and silky sleep shorts with zero pretense.
She’s fucking beautiful. Incredible tits, perfect hips, toned legs, and an unstoppable ass. The hottest girl I’ve ever seen, bar none. And she’s looking at me like she’s parched and I’m the cool drink of water that she’s been praying for.Fuck.
I take off my shirt slowly, just to watch her squirm, then drop my sweats and climb onto the bed.
Her jaw drops. “Itishuge. I knew it was big, but…damn, Hunter.”
I love the surprised tone of her voice. I arch a brow. “Were you under the mistaken impression that my cock might not match the rest of my body?”
“No.” She flushes. “Just saying. I’m not even sure how you and I are supposed to fit together.”
“We’ll make it fit,” I say with a smug little grin. “But not right now. First… I want to lick your pussy. I’ve been dreaming about how good your cum tastes, Firecracker.”
“Such a filthy mouth,” she chides.
I drop a kiss on her collarbone. “You love it.”
Juliet looks up at me, naked before me, arms above her head, lips a bright red slash against her flushed skin. Her nipples harden, and the sight of her tits, full, perfect, tipped with dusky-pink nipples poking out at me, makes me stop and stare.
“You’re obsessed,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“I like your tits,” I admit, not bothering to hide it. “I’d be an idiot not to be a little obsessed. Look at you. I’m obsessed with every part of you. Tits, ass, and especially this soft, pink pussy. I could eat this pussy all goddamn day. I would die a fortunate man if you were my last fucking meal.”
“Hux.” The way she moans my name makes me so goddamn hard. “You’re killing me.”
“Am I? Let’s see.”
I run my thumb over her nipple, circling lazily, then drag my palm down her ribs, mapping every inch like I’m memorizing her. I stop at her hips, digging in with my hands, kneading until she arches.
She tries to touch me, reaching for my shoulders, but I catch her wrists and pin them together above her head. She moans, the sound low and breathy, and it makes my cock twitch.
“Stay,” I command. Juliet does, her arms straining but not pulling away.
I grab her discarded tank top, looping it around her wrists and tying a loose knot. She could wriggle out if she wanted, but the point isn’t the restraint. It’s the surrender. She tests it, pulling once, and then lies still, eyes locked on mine.
“Are you still okay with this?” I ask, softening just for a second. If she even has a moment of hesitation, I’ll stop. I’ve chased off half a dozen meaningless hookups with my need for dominance.
I won’t risk Juliet Monroe getting cold feet when she’s naked in my bed. Having her soft and willing is more important than fucking her exactly how I want to.
“I’m sure.” She nods her head, the movement impatient. “Don’t you dare stop.”
I give her a slick grin. “Didn’t plan on it.”
I lean in and kiss her, starting slow, tasting her mouth and the faint tang of her lipstick. She kisses back with teeth, nipping at my lower lip, then opening for me, letting me take over.
I move down, lips trailing along her jaw, her throat, her collarbone. I bite the spot where her shoulder curves, sucking until I know it will bruise. She groans, pushing up into my mouth, and I reward her by dragging my tongue lower.
Her tits are next. I take one in my hand, squeezing, then close my mouth over her nipple, sucking hard enough that she whimpers. I flick it with my tongue, then bite, and she bucks against me, thighs squeezing my hips.
“Jesus, Hunter?—”
