Page 23 of Bad Men

“You feel so good,” she gasped like a diver coming up for air.

“Don’t stop!” I half snarled, half pleaded, actually pleaded. I’d never pleaded a day in my life.

Mia made a deep, husky purring sound on her descend, the sound of a woman in unimaginable pleasure. The humming vibration sent a lit match ripping through my system. It ignited a release I had to stuff a pillow over my face to keep from being heard. Ropes of hot, sticky cum shot into the back of Mia’s throat, an endless assault that should have drowned her. I expected it to be everywhere, running down her chin as she hacked and coughed. But when I lifted the pillow, she had her face buried in my lap still, lightly sucking on the head as if trying to get the cream from a creamsicle.

“Jesus,” I wheezed.

Her eyes opened, hungry pits of desire. Her swollen lips lifted off my flaccid cock and bowed into a grin.

“Did I do it right?”

My answer, the only one I could give when my brain was soup was to grab her arms and haul her up onto my chest. Her legs went around my hips. Her mound rubbed over the limp, sated bump of my penis. I closed my fingers into her hair and pulled her mouth roughly to mine.

The taste of my release coated her tongue, a salty tang of man mixed with her sweeter flavor. I devoured her until she was tearing away, gasping for air. I allowed it, allowed her to gulp while I wrenched her onto her back and filled her thighs with my shoulders. She was still panting when I took my first sweep of her pussy, tasting her tight, little hole with all the pent up relish I’d been harboring for five long years.

“Davien!”

Long fingers closed in my hair, holding me to her mound. Her knees dropped wide around my ears, giving me full access to her most sensitive areas. I didn’t hesitate. I swept through the moist folds with my ravenous tongue, tracing line and hallows so familiar I paused.

“What?” Mia panted, lifting her head to peer down the length of her body at me.

I studied the most beautiful pussy I’d ever seen, knowing I had never seen it before. I knew that without a shadow of a doubt, yet I knew the path of it with my tongue. I knew its flavor. I recognized its scent. I considered the possibility that maybe I was remembering it from the night on the train, but I knew that wasn’t it.

“Do you want to stop?” Mia was attempting to pull away, to push up onto her elbows.

I took ahold of her hips and pinned her to the mattress. “Don’t move.”

She reclined, but I could feel her uncertainty billowing around us.

Leaving her watching me, I bent my head for another taste. I traced over the bump down to the slit. The woman beneath me whined. Her fingers combed back through my hair to add pressure against my crown, urging me to continue. I barely noticed, too busy trying to pinpoint where I knew her pussy from.

I could lie and pretend like I remembered every vagina I ever had since my first at sixteen, but the truth was, I barely remembered their faces. I wasn’t some serial fucker, but there had been a few in my thirty years. The fact that I knew with absolute certainty that I had never slept with Mia had me momentarily questioning my sanity.

Then it hit me, and I nearly leaped off the bed. My head yanked up so fast, Mia gave a start. Her big eyes watched me, curious but concerned.

“Davien?”

It couldn’t be.

I tried to remember that night five years ago at Oli Sutherland’s Halloween party. It had been full of noise and bodies dressed in sexy costumes. Nero and I were in the living room, downing our second beers and eyeing a couple of girls dressed as some type of sexy fairies with their wings painted on their faces. Both had wigs on that matched the colors of their tutus and halters. One was orange, the other blue. They kept casting glances our way and giggling to each other. I was about to call dibs on the perky blue fairy when a flash of gold and crimson had my head turning towards the doorway.

I never would have recognized her if our eyes hadn’t met. The soft ambers shone behind the gold foil of her mask, but I would have known them anywhere.

Mia.

Mia in a jaw-dropping sheet of glittering red. It draped over the lines and curves of her body the way no costume had the right to and stopped way too high on toned thighs. Thin straps kept the scraps in place over her naked shoulders, doing nothing to keep her breasts from nearly slipping out of the top. On her feet were the highest fuck-me heels I’d ever seen the same shade as her dress.

I had no idea what she was supposed to be, but my cock didn’t care. It liked what it saw and so had I.

Next to me, Nero had gone rigid, eyes fixed on the goddess in the doorway with the same expression I was sure I had on my face — wonderment and lust. Unlike me, he seemed to find his senses way too quickly.

“No,” he said with an absolute definitive. “The rules.”

Everything in me wanted to tell him to fuck the rules just that once. Was he even seeing what I was seeing? How was he even thinking straight? But he was right. She was off limits, maybe more so given she’d only turned eighteen the week before.

I had relented because the rules were everything. They were the foundations to our very friendship. Without them, I didn’t even know who I was. But I found myself following her with my eyes that entire night. I barely kept my temper in check whenever some asshole slinked up to her like they stood a chance.

Nero seemed to be having the same thoughts. I caught him more than once reaching towards his waistband. His murderous fury was concealed better but I knew he was two seconds away from shooting the next guy who touched her. It was a small wonder he hadn’t given into the barely suppressed fire in his eyes.

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