Page 94 of Tempt

Normally if a guy came in my mouth and then passed out, I’d be irritated. But with Daniel, it was oddly touching. Like he trusted me enough to let him be vulnerable.

The feelings I have for him are beautiful and messy and completely uncharted territory.

I like simple attachments, the kind you can snip and walk away from unscathed. He’s twisted me up in knots of his making, the emotions braided so perfectly I didn’t realize how trapped I was before now.

“I’m screwed,” I whisper.

“You’re about to be,” comes a gravelly voice from beneath the covers.

I push away the sheets to reveal the man propped between my thighs.

Daniel lifts his head an inch. His hair is a mess, his mouth slick.

It should be illegal how sexy he looks.

“You let me fall asleep last night.”

“I didn’t let you do anything.” I smile as I stretch both arms over my head. “It was past your bedtime.”

His touch skims down my sides, reverent and arousing. His lips brush where I’m wet, and my hips snap up to meet him.

I shudder out a breath, my head falling back.

The red digits on the alarm clock enter the periphery of my vision.

It’s seven.

“Crap! I have to get Andy up.”

“He can sleep in.” Daniel’s tongue slicks over me.

I bite my cheek to keep from moaning.

“I have class.”

“I’ll write you a note.”

He presses what feels like two fingers inside me at once, filling me.

The man doesn’t fight fair.

I grab the sheets. “I have group therapy,” I protest, trying to be the responsible one for once. “Don’t you have meetings? Important”—hiccup—“work to accomplish?”

“I’m doing important work now.”

My body agrees with him, my toes clenching.

Everything he does urges me to stay in bed. He’s making up for lost time last night, and though there’s nothing to make up for, it would be uncharitable not to let him try.

I give up resisting and grab his hair with both hands, riding his face.

He hums his approval against my skin. His shoulders flex as he leans in.

Yeah, I want all of his body on all of mine.

Immediately.

For the next hour, at least.