Page 60 of Rebel Revenge

He silently undid the button, and the zipper below, pressing kisses there as he went.

One sharp tug on the legs of my pants had them down around my knees, exposing the plain black panties I’d put on that morning.

He breathed deeply, his lips on the fabric covering my mound, then nuzzled in between my thighs, licking the insides.

“I’ve missed this,” he murmured. “The taste of your skin. The scent of your arousal.” He twisted my panties to one side and groaned. “The sight of your slit.”

He drove his tongue between the lips of my pussy, rasping over my clit, making me jump at the sudden rush of sensation.

I dropped my head back against the brick wall. It was hard and rough behind me, at complete odds with how soft and gentle the man between my legs was. He explored every inch of my most intimate areas, prodding his tongue against every sensitive place, checking my reaction to each.

“I need you to tell me if you’re hurt, Pix. If you’re hurt here. I don’t want to make it worse. Only better.”

I shook my head. “I was. But not anymore. All that’s left behind now are the injuries in my head.”

He licked my pussy slowly, luxuriously, like he had all the time in the world and every intention of using every second. “I’m going to kill him, Pix.”

I grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked it back sharply. “No. You aren’t. Promise me you won’t.”

His tongue darted out to touch my clit. Though it felt amazing, and would have been easy to let him get back to the task at hand, I dug my fingers into his hair harder, keeping him back. “Promise me. I have to do it, Fang. It has to be me.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but something in my expression must have stopped him. A little of his fight disappeared. “I need to be there, then. When it happens. I can’t have you going up against him alone. I’ll lose it.”

I could give him that. I wasn’t too proud to admit Caleb scared me. I wanted revenge, but I could let people have my back. That was just smart.

I might not have finished high school, but no one had ever accused me of being stupid.

“Okay.”

My acceptance chased away a couple of the demons lurking in his eyes. He put his head back down to finish the job he’d started.

“Oh,” I whispered, accepting his open mouth, fitted around my clit while he sucked gently. “I’d forgotten how amazing you are at this.”

He huffed out a displeased noise. “Then let me do it more. I’ll do it every day if you let me. I think you know that.”

I did. When he reminded me so perfectly of exactly how good he was with his tongue, it made me question my reasons for keeping him at bay.

“I want you on the back of my bike, Pix,” he murmured between licks. “I want it so fucking bad it hurts.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

It was as good as a marriage proposal from a guy like him. Putting a woman on the back of your bike was a sacred act to him and his club, and we both knew it.

This was why I’d kept him at arm’s length.

’Cause Fang was the man you fell in love with, when you were whole and healed and ready to settle down.

If I tried to keep him before I was there, I’d ruin him.

I’d destroy everything good between us and make him miserable.

He was ready, his inner demons all laid to rest.

But I was so bitterly broken.

We didn’t fit.

“Stop talking,” I whispered, knowing I couldn’t say what he wanted me to say. “Stop talking and make me come. I don’t want to think anymore.”

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