Page 168 of Bitter When He Begs

Now, I need to thank him in a language he understands.

Sage’s back hits the wall with a dull thud, and I don’t even pretend to play it slow. I grab his face in both hands and kiss him like I’m tasting the fallout. Like the adrenaline hasn’t stopped ricocheting through my veins. Like my entire chest is still cracked open from what he just did back there.

“You really just did that,” I rasp against his mouth, my voice rough and frayed.

His grin is still smug. Still wild. “Fucker needed to be reminded whose name you moan.”

That’s it.

I lift him clean off the floor, his legs wrapping around my waist without hesitation. He bites at my jaw, laughing breathlessly as I carry him toward my bedroom.

I shove the door open and slam it shut behind us. Then I let him down and press him up against it, crushing my mouth to his and tasting my own victory there.

This isn’t playful.

It’s not even controlled.

It’s worship—demanding, hungry, filthy fucking worship.

“Strip,” I growl into his mouth.

His eyes go wide, pupils blown, but he doesn’t hesitate. He peels off his shirt first, then kicks off his boots. He unbuttons his jeans slowly, still teasing, and I snap.

I grab his waistband, yank it down, and drop to my knees right there in front of him. His cock’s already hard, flushed and leaking, and I groan like I’ve found religion.

For once, he shuts up. Sage has seen me angry. He’s seen me possessive. He’s seen me rough. But he’s never seen me grateful like this. Never seen me worship.

I palm his hips, pressing my forehead against his stomach for a second, just breathing him in. “Let me thank you.”

He blinks down at me, lips parting. “You don’t have to—”

“You want to run your mouth for me in public?” I whisper, lips brushing the tip. “Then you’ll take my mouth in private.”

His knees buckle when I take him in deep.

I don’t start slow. I don’t tease.

I devour him.

I suck him down until he’s hitting the back of my throat. One hand on his thigh, gripping hard to keep him steady, the other sliding between his legs to cup his balls, rolling them gently as I moan around him.

He cries out, hand slamming into the door behind him, head tipped back as I fuck him with my mouth like it’s the only way I know how to say I love you.

I groan around him, the vibration making his hips jerk. He tries to pull back, but I grab his ass and keep him there, lips sealed around his cock, tongue sliding along the underside in a filthy rhythm that has him gasping as if I’m stealing every breath he’s got.

“I’m gonna—fuck—don’t stop—don’t—”

He comes with a sob, hands clutching at my hair, hips stuttering as he spills hot spurts down my throat. His legs barely hold him up while I swallow every last drop, hands stroking his thighs to keep him steady.

When he’s shaking and softening in my mouth, I pull off and look up at him.

He’s glassy-eyed, panting, and his chest is rising and falling like he just ran a marathon.

“You okay, baby?” I murmur, standing and catching him as he slumps forward into my chest.

His arms wrap around me weakly. “I might be dead.”

“Too bad I’m not done,” I say, grabbing him by the waist and throwing him onto the bed.