Page 45 of Reckless Hearts

Swallowing, I slowly spread my legs again, shameful warmth spreading from my face all the way down to my bare chest. I look away miserably, because there’s no way I can look him in the eye when I do this. My hand drops between my thighs, and I shiver when I cup myself.

My heart thuds against my chest.

This is a first, doing this in front of him. In front of anyone, to be honest.

Allof this is a first. And whatever comes next will be, too.

Whatever he does to me…with me…will be a first that he claims.

Yeah.

After what happened with the monster when I was twelve, I didn’t exactly have an interest in exploring things, sexually I mean, with anyone but myself. This wasn’t exactly a huge problem, considering I was always the weird outcast new girl at countless schools. It’s not exactly like people were lining up to take me out and, oh, I don’t know, fuck me for the first time or anything. Or finger me. Or even coerce me into an awkward, toothy first blowjob.

For a while, at Knightsblood, I thought that might change. When Chase, despite being just another dumb, handsy, popular jock, showed me a part of himself that no one else got to see, a door inside me opened that had been locked for years.

But then after everything that happened at school, I shut back down. I finished college here in the city instead of at Knightsblood, happily keeping to myself. Over the years I’ve tried here and there to find companionship, or yes, casual sex.

But for some reason it’s never panned out. I’ve never really been that interested anyway, which is good, because something always derails it. They flake. They show their true colors. They turn out to be a creep. Whatever it is,ithas never happened.

But there is no fucking way in hell I’m telling any of that to Deimos.

“Dahlia, I’m beginning to think that you’re a twenty-four-year-old woman who doesn’t actually know how to pleasure herself. It’s concerning.”

I glare at him, trying to ignore the disconnect between doing that and sitting across from him with my legs spread and a hand covering my bare pussy.

“I’m confident I’mmuchmore adept at eliciting pleasure and orgasm from a vagina than you are,” I snap.

Deimos’ lips pull wide.

“I sincerely doubt that. But if you’re so fucking sure…” I shiver as he leans closer, his elbows on his knees. “Thenshow me.”

Something teasing ripples up my spine. And slowly, I nod.

“Fine,” I breathe.

The middle finger of the hand covering my pussy begins to move, sliding up and down my lips.

He wasn’t wrong; I’msoaked. And, I mean, if I was alone, this wouldn’t be a problem. But it’s more than a little strange sitting here with an audience of one, three feet away from me. Watching me. Judging me, like he’s assessing my technique.

“I’m waiting, Dahlia.”

“What do you want from me? I’mdoingit!” I hiss.

Deimos snorts, raising a brow.

“You’re joking, surely.”

I stop moving my finger, glaring at him. I mean it’smyfucking pussy, for fuck’s sake. The audacity to suggest he could do it better than me…?

“Look, if you’re so insistent that I do this, can you just stop talking and let me—”

“This is a train wreck. I’m intervening.”

Wait, what?

Before I know what’s happening, he’s off the sofa, surging right into me, and shoving my thighs apart with his. My eyes go wide, and my mouth falls open as Deimos grabs my hand, twists his fingers with mine, and in one motion, curls both our hands deep between my legs.

Oh. My. Fucking. GOD.

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