A pink flush creeps over her nose and cheeks, obscuring the tiny smattering of freckles she has there.
“Now,” I command, and she narrows her eyes, titling her chin in a show of defiance that makes my cock throb painfully.
“Fine, they’re your sheets,” she says with a sweet smile, before turning on her heel and storming into the bathroom. I’m pretty sure I hear her call me an asshole under her breath.
I take off my shirt and listen to the sound of the toilet flushing. A few moments later, Lily emerges from the bathroom, dressed exactly the same as before, in an oversized college jersey that stops at mid-thigh, but looking less bold than she did when she walked in there.
“Come here,” I order, resisting the urge to make her crawl to me—for now. “And remember that you asked for this when I’m done with you. Don’t go crying to West or Fitch.”
She glares at me, and my aching cock weeps for her. But first, I need to taste. “Take off your clothes.”
She doesn’t hesitate to peel off her jersey, letting it drop to the floor beside her feet. She’s not wearing a bra, and her nipples are already stiff peaks. I ball my hands into fists at my sides to stop myself from reaching out and squeezing the tempting buds. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of her black panties, and that’s when she falters and throws another nervous glance at the white cotton sheets.
“Yes, those too, buttercup.”
Her slender throat ripples as she peels her underwear down her legs and kicks them off. Sucking on my top lip, I allow myself a moment to take in every inch of her, to appreciate her lethal curves. I’ve seen her naked, but not like this—not just for me. She has a scar on her side, under her ribs. Another on the inside of her left thigh. Did someone put them there? Did someone mark her beautiful skin on purpose? Did she let them?
She squeezes her thighs together, and her voice is a hoarse whisper. “Zeke?”
“Lie on the bed.”
She bites down on her lip, eyes full of excitement and more than a hint of fear, which only makes me harder. She’s a woman full of sharp contrasts—compliant and defiant, confident but unsure, sweet but a little dangerous too. West might have been right—maybe she is perfect.
“Don’t make me ask a second time.”
She gets on the bed and scoots back until her head touches the pillows. Her cheeks are bright pink now, and that cute blush races down her neck and chest. So self-conscious about a little blood. I lick my lips. Soon she won’t care.
I climb onto the bed after her. Spreading her legs with my knees, I crawl between them and run my nose up her calf to her knee, then her inner thigh. Her entire body trembles with nervous energy. I inhale deeply, and my balls tighten at her scent. Liquid arousal drips out of her, and the heady mix of her cum laced with that distinctive coppery tang makes me feral. Looking up at her face, I lick my lips. Dark green eyes stare back at me, her tits heaving with each heavy breath.
I brush my thumbs along her pussy lips and spread her wide open. “You smell good enough to fucking devour whole.” I bite down on the inside of her thigh, making her whimper and moan and buck her hips.
She threads her slender fingers through my hair. “Z-Zeke.” My name shudders out of her mouth on a plea. Whether it’s to stop or keep going, I have no idea, but I suspect a little of both. I bite again, marking her this time, claiming her for my own. A sick thrill envelops me at the thought of how she’ll look at these marks later and know that I gave them to her. I could mark her forever.
I bite down harder, and she squirms. The scent of her arousal grows thicker and stronger, and I need to taste her. Her clit is perfect, swollen and slick and begging for me to take a bite. I rub the pad of my thumb over it first, gently teasing her with the slightest amount of pressure. A keening wail rips out of her chest, and her back arches off the bed. “So fucking beautiful, Lily.” I press more firmly. She writhes, lost in the moment, her earlier embarrassment about bleeding on my sheets forgotten.
“Oh. Oh, fuck.” She rocks her hips, chasing more contact, and I give it to her in the form of my tongue running the length of her slit. She cries out, her hips almost shooting off the bed, and I hold her down with my free hand, keeping her exactly where I want her while I swirl my tongue over her supple flesh.
Her fingernails dig into my head, making my scalp tingle. I drink her in, her scent and taste flooding my nose and mouth. My tongue joins my thumb, and I work her clit with both, applying firmer pressure. Tremors wrack her body, and her thighs clamp around my head. I push one thigh back down, giving me more room to feast on her cunt.