Page 116 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
This is what I want. What Ineed. She’s so fucking sexy right now when she’s unable to pull her shields into place.
“Are you going to come again?” I ask.
She nods, feverish, eyes clenched hard. “I’m so close.”
“I want to hear it.” I rear back, spit on her clit, and murmur, “I want to hear my name on your lips when you come for me like a good fucking girl.”
As soon as I dive back in, my lips encircling and sucking on her clit, she shakes violently, falling apart. Her third orgasm rips through her like a live wire, back arching, thighs crushing my head. I keep licking, determined to wring every drop of pleasure out of her. Only when she collapses fully, hair plastered to her face, breathing like she just ran a marathon, do I finally let up.
I crawl up her body and untie her wrists, massaging the marks left by her straining at the knotted camisole. She looks at me, eyes glazed, lips parted, like she’s forgotten how to speak.
“Are you alive?” I prompt.
She nods, limp as a rag doll, and then giggles, high and delirious.
“That was…” she says, but can’t finish the sentence.
I kiss her, long and deep, letting her taste herself on my tongue. She moans into my mouth, greedy for it. When I break away, she chases my lips, hands scrabbling for any part of me she can reach.
She tries to slide her hand down to my cock, but I stop her.
“No,” I say, voice going dark. “You’re not in charge right now.”
She grins, then pouts, batting her eyelashes. “So what happens now?”
I kneel over her, cock in my hand, already leaking pre-come. She watches, transfixed, as I stroke myself. I brace one hand against the headboard and jerk my cock, slow and rough, never looking away from her face. My piercing catches the light and I bite my lip.
It increases the pleasure for both of us. Or it will as soon as I fuck her. That’ll have to happensoon.
She watches me with huge, blown pupils, chest still heaving. Looking at her naked body, still flushed from orgasm, makes me groan. Her citrus and musk scent is in my nose and I huff a breath, trying to get more of it.
My cock throbs, my balls tensing already. I’m on the precipice. When I come, I shoot all over her stomach, hot and messy, painting her skin with it. I watch the realization hit her. She enjoys being marked up, loves knowing she did this to me.
I smear my cum across her belly, rubbing it into her skin with my palm. She groans, writhing a little. I dip my fingers into the mess and bring them to her lips. She opens, tongue flicking out, tasting me without hesitation.
“Good girl,” I whisper. “That’s perfect, Monroe.”
She glows, eyes closing. I flop down beside her and gather her in my arms. She’s soft and melty, all the fight gone out of her, and I like it more than I should.
We’re supposed to be enemies. But enemies don’t do what we just did so very well. Unless hate sex counts… that could be something.
We lie together, trying to catch our breath, defenseless for just these few moments. She moves a little, and her arm catches my cum, which is still smeared across her stomach. Seeing her discomfort, I roll out of bed, grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom, and return to wipe her clean. She lets me, quiet and content, eyes watching me with something that looks a hell of a lot like trust.
What do I do to earn that? And how do I keep it?
When she’s cleaned up, I tuck her under the covers and slide in next to her. She says nothing, just curls into me, her hand pressed over my heart.
She’s glowing in the soft light, with a faint smile on her lips, like she’s holding onto a secret. But I’m already in my head, already withdrawing, already pretending like it didn’t mean everything.
Because it meant everything. And that’s the problem.
Not only did Juliet just let me dominate her. But she liked it. Sheaskedfor it. What am I supposed to do with the information that my fake fiancée might be just as kinky as me?
“You okay?” she asks quietly.
“Yeah. Fine.”
It’s a lie and we both know it. But she doesn’t push, just watches me with those dark eyes like she’s trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.
