Page 179 of Severed Heart

“Non, so don’t waste your effort,” I say, waving him away.

“After getting a good whiff,” he continues, ignoring my dismissal while running his fingers along my skin in an intoxicating sweep.

“Soldierrrr,” I draw out as a pulse begins to beat between my legs.

Ignoring me, his eyes light fire, captivating me as he easily tugs my pants and panties down before tossing them and leaving me half-naked on the counter.

“Tyler—”

“And with a nose full of you, I’d go home,” he confesses, palming my knees apart before standing between them.

“And then what?” I whisper, my voice coated with my building arousal. The look in his rich brown eyes enough to set me alight as I trace the path of the tongue he drags along his full bottom lip. Just the sight of him, the stroke of his fingers, and the path of his tongue has me becoming acutely aware of everything else. His strategy for that intentional and never failing. It’s the added look of him in his T-shirt and jeans, the curve of his biceps, and the fresh, mixed scents wafting from him that start to undo me.

“Then I’d take my cock in my hand ... and fuck my fist,” he murmurs, gently running his fingers up my thighs as he dips and places a kiss in the divot of my throat. “Thinking about this”—he kisses the divot again—“and this.” He licks along the column of it as I tangle my fingers in his damp hair.

“You are going to be late,” I remind him, my protest pathetic.

“Give me some more of that cream,” he orders, and I do, taking a dollop onto my finger and playfully dotting his nose with it. He cuts his eyes at me as I laugh, and a second later, I’m flattened against the counter as he runs his cream-covered nose through my center.

“Soldier, I can’t take this anymore,” I utter. “I can’t. Okay? I surrender, and since I’ve learned that means nothing to you, just take out your gun and shoot me.”

A chuckle erupts as I glare down at him where he hovers above my bare pussy.

“Days and days of fingers and tongues,” I release through a groan, “nothing but fingers and tongues and—ah,” I cry as he flattens his tongue on my clit before flicking it rapidly. I’m already battered into submission when he pulls away.

“Don’t like my tongue?” he prompts, and I tighten my fingers in his hair before gently clawing his scalp. Keeping my gaze, he begins to leisurely lick me. At this point, I know better than to look away because the second I do, he stops.

“Soldier, please,” I whimper as he brings me close, only to pull away, thrusting a finger inside me before expertly teasing me with it.

“Please, what?”

“Do whatever is in your eyes.”

“I am.” He adds another finger and begins to pump them into me. “So fucking tight.”

Bending over me, he feeds me his tongue first, his kiss a mix of lemon, my own taste, and mint from his toothbrush. Grappling with the strength of his kiss, I clutch and claw as he seduces me with his wicked mouth. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers directly into my ear, “you’re so wet.”

“Please ... can do just, ah,” I climb as his fingers hasten, “do a little,” I whisper as he deposits wet kisses along my neck.

“Just a little what?”

“A little,” I whisper.

“You mean, just the tip?” He chuckles.

“Why is that so fucking funny?” I growl.

“Oof, baby, someone is getting frustrated.”

“I’m not,” I lie.

“Liar.”

“We could fuck a little. Just a little,” I say. “You love stretching my mouth.” I drop my eyes suggestively.

His eyes narrow, and I hold my victorious smirk, having discovered his weakness early in our game with the way he constantly traces my lips.

“Brutal,” he utters, onto my ploy, “but I promise you, you’ll be the one who can’t handle just a little.”