Page 12

ELEVEN

ABOUT FUCKING TIME

ROYCE

S uddenly, it feels like the ice from outside has settled in my gut.

Guys …

‘Guys’ implies plural, and when she says ‘in my experience’, she’s talking about the other men she’s been with.

Fuck, no .

I’m no saint; not just because I’m a Sinner, either. Since Heather, I’ve lost track of my one-night-stands and the women I spent a week or two with before I moved on. Even before her, I had a couple of girlfriends. While each one was important to me once—and I have good thoughts and fond memories of most of them—I keep them where they belong: in my past.

The Nicolette I’ve seen tonight is obviously no doe-eyed virgin. I never thought she’d be. It’s one of the things that drew me to her in the first place, the haunted look in her soft brown eyes that warned she’s seen some shit, and how she found a way to smile past it. There is still a touch of naiveté about her—or desperation—that I saw when she agreed to spend a night with Miles, and I almost pity the poor bastard for losing out after she climbed into my lap before.

Ten grand? The way she arched her back, completely naked below the waist while insisting she keep her top on… it was so fucking erotic, I don’t know how I didn’t nut right away.

Even now I’m humming in place, the musk of our sex clinging to our skin, her tempting pussy only inches away from my watering mouth having me on the edge of losing complete control…

I need this, and she’s going to give it to me.

“Hey. Why don’t you let me show you what I can handle. Yeah?”

“I don’t?—”

“Open your legs, Nicolette.” It’s an order, and I don’t care if that’s how she takes it. I’m her boss at the Playground. If I have to, I’ll be her boss in bed, too. “You gave me your pussy already. Way I see it, it’s mine tonight.” It’s gonna be mine forever . “That means your orgasms are, too. You haven’t let me use my tongue to give you one. That’s not fair.”

Her brow furrows. “Fair?”

I climb onto the bed. “That’s right. You want to be fair, don’t you? Of course you do. Now go on. Show me my pussy.”

She sucks in a breath—and then she does just that.

I barely notice the blonde curls covering her pussy. All I see when she splits her legs are the pretty pink pussy lips, the dark hole stretched out because of my cock, and the glistening moisture that tells me she wants me to do this almost as much as I do.

Almost .

I don’t give Nicolette a chance to change her mind. Once she opens herself up to me, I wedge my shoulders in between her thighs, making it impossible for her to close up again.

Then, using my thumbs and forefingers to spread her labia, I begin to feast.

One taste. Just like I thought. It takes one fucking taste of her cream hitting my tongue and I know that I’ll never find anything that tastes this amazing again. Because this is Nicolette. This is her giving herself to me, to trusting me, and it couldn’t be any better.

I only rise up long enough to rumble, “Goddamn it. You tried to keep this from me? Oh, but you’re a good girl, aren’t you? Letting me feast on this pussy. It’s fucking delicious.”

I curl my tongue, traveling all the way up her slit before sucking her clit into my mouth. When she gasps, I grin. She’s relaxing around me, and as I take her hand, guiding her to grab my hair so that she’s got something to hold onto, I go to town on her.

So, yeah, I’m no saint, but I might just be a fucking hypocrite because I still can’t handle the thought of Nic with any other cock stretching her out but mine .

I’d only planned on worshiping her, showing her how good we could be together after she gave me pleasure downstairs. But now…

Just as her legs start to quiver her release, I grip her thighs tight, throwing her legs over my shoulders. In this position, I can bury my face against her pussy so that she has no choice but to ride out her orgasm on my face.

Nicolette digs her heels in the meat of my upper back. Her fingers are tugging on my hair, almost like she’s using it like fucking reins, steering me exactly where she wants me to go. Her back arching up off of the bed, she cries out before dropping back on it again.

I’m sprawled on my belly, face in her snatch. My nose is nestled in her curls, my tongue plunged up inside of her, gathering all of her moisture as she shudders in place.

“That was,” she says, her voice suddenly strained. “That was…”

I squeeze her thighs one last time, then sit up, lowering her legs back to the bed. She probably expects that I’m going to grab that towel from before to wipe off my face.

Not a chance. Not only do I like smelling Nic’s cunt on my face like this, but now that I have her loose and limber and wanting… I take one leg and, with a show of strength she wasn’t expecting, I flip her easily from her back to her front. She gasps in surprise, but stays where I put her as I sandwich her legs with mine, bracing her as I climb on top of her back.

I grip her hip with one hand, lifting her up just enough that I can grab my cock and slide it into her pussy from behind. Between fucking her downstairs, then fucking her with my tongue just now, there’s not as much resistance as before. The angle is different enough to squeeze my cock in a whole new way, though, and when I tighten my thighs, making her legs do the same… my eyes almost roll back in my head, it feels so fucking good.

She hisses out a breath, fingers digging into the sheets. Once she gets used to the unexpected intrusion, she looks over her shoulder, sweat dotting her brow.

She wants to move. I can see it in the way the chords on her neck stand out, and it’s obvious in how she’s rocking just enough beneath my weight. But I’m keeping her pinned on my cock, in complete control this time, and her pretty face turns pleading.

“I told you, baby,” I say, answering her unasked question. “Your orgasms are mine. And I’m pretty sure you’ve got one more in you.”

“ Rolls —”

I bite her back through the material of her sweater. Not enough to hurt her, but to catch her attention. “It’s Royce to you, Nic. I told you that.”

She nods into the sheets, then throws her head back, moaning as I buck up into her.

“Yes. God yes .”

“That feel good?”

Again, she nods.

I trail my hands down her back. “You want more?”

“I want everything .”

I grin to myself as I pull out, slamming back home again. “Good. Because that’s exactly what I’m going to give you.”

I make Nicolette give me two more orgasms before I finally let her get some rest. I find a new washcloth in her attached bathroom after encouraging her to pee, then give us both a quick clean-up before joining her in bed.

Forever a gentleman, I end up sleeping in the wet spot anyway. Considering it’s only there because I got to fuck her twice, I don’t complain. Instead, I lay down with her, inviting her to snuggle up next to me.

When she does, I’ve never felt more victorious.

Just before I nod off myself, I remember that—for all intents and purposes—it probably seems like I disappeared off the face of the planet tonight. Here’s hoping that none of the guys needed me, but now that I have that thought, I go rooting along the edge of Nic’s bed for my pants.

I had my phone in the back pocket. I refuse to let go of her so retrieving my phone takes a bit of gymnastics as half of me stays on the bed, the other half nearly falling off, but finally I have it and?—

Shit.

Twelve missed calls. Thirty-five texts.

Rolling my eyes, I go right to Link’s name. Anyone else can wait, but the boss?

I called you five times.

You dead?

You better be dead, Royce.

Ah. That’s Link for you. He has a history of disappearing on the syndicate, and when he’s with Ava, the goddamn Playground better be burning down before we interrupt his time with his wife, but the second I ignore my phone for more than a couple of hours, he assumes the worst—and then he threatens me.

No, boss. I’m not dead. In fact, after spending the night with Nicolette, I realize just how much I’ve been sleepwalking the last six years. Blaming myself for some cocky Dragonfly taking a shot at me and accidentally killing a woman I barely knew. That’s the life, and I knew it, but I let it affect my life.

Not anymore.

In response to Link’s latest text, I snap a pic. My phone’s angled so that all you get is her blonde hair sprawled out on my chest, the top of my devil tattoo peeking out from between the tousled waves. Smirking to myself, I send it to Link and wait.

It takes two minutes.

About fucking time.

I know, Link.

I know.