Page 43 of Beautiful Beast

“Tell me one thing, princess,” I say, panting like I just participated in a triathlon. “How the hell did you learn to suck dick like that?”

She turns to look at me and her face flushes, which is so damn cute considering what we just did and the intimacy we shared.

“I read a book about it,” she admits. “Well, half a book. I didn’t get all the way through it yet because I didn’t think we’d be hooking up for a bit. You showing up today was a happy surprise I wasn’t quite prepared for.”

Jesus Christ.

When she finishes that book, I’m a fucking goner.

“They have a book about blowjobs?” I ask, genuinely curious. “What’s it called? ‘How to suck dick like a champ?’ Or maybe, ‘how to suck the soul out of a guy?’ Or–”

“Oh, shut up,” she cries, hiding her face in her hands.

“You’re an excellent student,” I tell her. But then I frown. “I hope you didn’t practice on a live model.”

“You’resuchan ass,” she says. “I just… I wanted to make you feel good.”

Something deep inside me starts to thaw. My dick isn’t all this girl blew – she short-circuited my mind, too.

When I don’t respond – I can’t, the post-orgasm haze is making me way too fucking emotional – she must be compelled to fill the silence.

“You’re my wounded warrior. I just… want to take care of you.”

Jesus.

I cup her chin, and before I can lean in to kiss her, she kisses my scar and emotion clogs my throat and burns my eyes.

“I appreciate you, princess.”

She snuggles into my arms, and I nuzzle her neck.

“Are you going to let me touch you?” I ask.

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“I donotfeel sexy on my period. Your first time seeing me naked isnotgoing to be when I’m bloated and gross.”

“You are not bloated or gross.”

“Hell to the no, Adam. Next week.”

I kiss her lips, keeping it chaste and closed-mouthed to try and prevent wanting more from her. Not that it works.

“I can’t fall asleep here,” I say, regret permeating my voice. “And I don’t mean to be a jerk, but that means I have to go now because I’m exhausted.”

“What?” she demands. “Now? You’re not going to stay with me?”

Her eyes are sad when she looks up at me through thick, dark lashes, confirming what I already knew – this girl can’t do “friends with benefits.” She’s definitely a wants more type, but hell, I usually am, too.

“I… can’t,” I say, unable to meet her eyes.

I want to.

I really fucking want to.

I love the smell of her hair, the silk of her skin, and how perfectly her body fits against mine. All I want to do is stay close to her all night long, her body glued to mine.

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