Page 23 of Whirlwind (Seattle Blades #4)

F uck, she tastes better than the top-shelf bourbon. I push my tongue further, and she wraps her arms around my neck, settling into my lap. Her legs wind around my waist, never separating her lips from mine.

Her eagerness makes it hard to remember our circumstances. As terrified as I am of rushing her, I’m equally determined not to deny her anything she wants. It’s a tightrope, but I don’t mind walking it for her.

I do hate that she got in her feels about Isla, earlier, though. I’m the asshole for not being more careful. Missing Isla and Sadie is something I still struggle with—not because I’m in love with my ex, but because we had more than just sex. We were friends. That’s what I miss.

But nothing like I’d miss a life without Kit’s perfect body grinding on me the way it is right now. She’s taking the lead, and I have every intention of letting her—regardless of how out of the norm that is for me. My cock hardens to steel under her rhythmic movements.

Every mewl she makes tests my resolve further. I want her naked, but need it to be at her pace. Feeling her skin to skin is something I’d kill for right now.

As if she hears me, she tugs at the buttons of my shirt, and we separate just long enough to pull it the rest of the way off.

“I didn’t expect to love kissing,” she pants.

“You didn’t?”

“No. I thought it would, I don’t know…smell or something,” she says casually—as if she isn’t pulling off her top and undoing her bra. I laugh, right up until the straps slip off her shoulders, dropping the rest of the fabric and exposing ample breasts with pert, dark nipples.

“Hell, Kit. You’re a goddamn goddess.”

She stills, her eyelashes fluttering like she’s trying to process the words.

“Do you need me to put you in front of a mirror so you can see for yourself?”

“No, thank you,” she says, scrunching her nose.

“Then, I need you to admit you’re beautiful.” I press my lips to her clavicle. “That you’re the sexiest woman in all of Seattle.” I trail my mouth lower, brushing the skin of her breast. Her chest hitches. “Do you believe it, Kit?”

The wait for her answer is excruciating. The need to suck her into my mouth is as urgent as my next heartbeat.

“I’ve never believed that before,” she says, meeting my eyes. “But I can see the truth on your face.”

Her fingers tremble as they brush my cheek, then tangle in my hair the moment I take her nipple into my mouth. The pull is delicious—the perfect mix of pain and pleasure—as my tongue flicks her stiff peak.

Her moan encourages me, but we’re still wearing too much.

“Upstairs,” I mumble, shifting her in my arms so I can stand. “We need fewer clothes, more skin.”

“Yes, please,” she says, burying her face in the crook of my neck. She kisses and tastes, sending chills down my spine. If this were any other woman, I’d stop halfway up the stairs and fuck her until we couldn’t tell where my body ended and hers began.

Instead, I make it all the way to my bed, setting her down gently before kneeling to unlace the boots she’s still wearing. When I glance up, she’s watching me with a soft smile—bare breasts unapologetically on display, no hint of distress or embarrassment.

“Hey, beautiful,” I say, untying the second boot and tossing it aside.

“Hey.”

“Can I take your pants off?”

“No. But you can take yours off,” she answers with a sly smile.

Standing, I kick off my shoes and waste no time undressing. When I shed my boxers, her cheeks flush.

“I love that you like looking at me, Kit.” I stroke my cock, her eyes following the motion like she’s studying for the biggest exam of her life.

“Do you want to look at me, too?”

“Whenever you’re ready for that,” I say, even though my head is screaming fuck yes .

“Can I try something, first?” She nibbles her lip, her fingers doing that nervous tensing that’s always her first tell.

“Sure,” I say.

She immediately slides off the bed and kneels at my feet.

“You don’t have to do that, Kit.”

“Are you saying no? Or are you saying that for my benefit?” she asks, tilting her head.

“I’m fully consenting,” I clarify. “To whatever you want to do to or with me. I’m…adventurous in bed. But I don’t want you thinking anything is expected—especially something that won’t bring you the same amount of pleasure it’ll bring me.”

“How do I know it won’t bring me pleasure if I don’t try it?”

“Okay,” I say. “That’s a fair point. But I can guarantee it won’t be as good for you as it will for me.”

“Okay,” she mimics. “You probably never go down on a woman, then, right? Because that can’t be as good for you as it is for her.”

Well, damn.

“Your brain is even sexier than your body—and that’s saying something, because you’re hot as fuck,” I tell her, pointing down at her.

“Thank you,” she preens. “Now, let me do what I want before all this conversation kills the mood.”

“By all means, proceed,” I say, trying not to laugh. I’ve had fun sex before—plenty of it—but never like this. Never where the talking itself was so…mood-enhancing. Kit couldn’t turn me off if she actively tried.

Her fingertips trail up my cock—soft, tentative. At the tip, she rubs around it, familiarizing herself.

I might die. Right here. Right now.

This will be what takes me out.

I hold still, though it takes every ounce of willpower. I can’t stop the involuntary twitch of my muscles or the precum that escapes—which only seems to fascinate her. She drags her thumb through it, wetting it, then sucks her thumb into her mouth. I groan.

“It doesn’t taste like I thought it would,” she murmurs, almost to herself. Then, her gaze locks on mine. “I like it.”

Fuck. My. Life.

Her head dips, stopping less than an inch away. A small puff of air escapes her before she licks the full length of my cock—base to tip.

“Fucking hell, Kit.”

“Good or bad?”

“So damn good.” She traces the motion again, and this time, when she reaches the tip, she wraps her mouth around it. The hum she makes almost robs me of all control—I nearly thrust forward.

“Jesus, Kit. I’m trying really hard, here.”

She snorts softly and takes me deeper. After a few fumbles, she finds her rhythm with shallow bobs, then gradually pushes a little farther, a little deeper. My hands lock behind my head, every muscle tight as I fight to keep from spilling down her throat. My stamina tonight is non-fucking-existent.

Then, she hums again.

“Kit, I can’t hold off,” I warn, trying to pull back.

She chases me, making a disapproving sound before sucking harder.

There’s no holding back, now—the first spurt escapes.

Aside from a slight jerk of surprise, she doesn’t flinch.

She swallows the next, then pulls back just enough for the rest to paint her chest in hot ribbons.

I’m spellbound, watching her smear my release across her skin. When I’m spent, she licks my tip clean.

Pretty sure I just fell in love with Kit Ashcroft.

I shake the thought away. There are a million reasons to fall for Kit—her fascination with blowjobs ranks low on the list.

“It was more than I expected,” she says, demure as she looks up through her lashes. I offer my hand and help her to her feet.

“Was it okay?”

“It was everything,” I tell her. “You are everything.”

Palming her cheek, I kiss her, not caring that she tastes like me. It only adds to the heat between us.

“Can we still have naked time?”

“Whatever you want, Kit. Whatever you need.”

I duck into the bathroom to dampen a washcloth. When I return, she’s still bare-breasted, unconcerned about the mess. Of all the things that make her squeamish, this isn’t one.

“Will you undress me? I want you to do it,” she says, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

I take my time—hands on her waist, then her hips, fingers playing along the waistband of her pants before I finally unfasten them. I ease them down a couple of inches at a time, murmuring her name and soft affirmations.

“Anything you want me to do, Kit, just tell me.”

“Like my own personal sex slave?” she asks with a grin.

“Exactly like that.” And I mean it. She could ask me for the vilest thing and I’d comply.

When her pants hit her ankles, she steps out and covers herself with her hands. Plain black cotton—practical, like her.

“I don’t shave it,” she says.

“Good.”

“Really?”

“Really, Kit. I want a woman. This woman.”

“But all the women in porn…”

“Are there for the pleasure of creepy-ass men who can’t get women in the real world,” I cut in.

She grins.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says with a shake of her head. “You’re just cute.”

“Cute?”

“Sweet,” she amends. “Handsome, gentle, sexy, and you have the best cock I’ve ever seen.”

“How many cocks have you seen, Kit?” I tease, brushing my nose against hers.

“Enough,” she whispers. “I watch a lot of pornography.”

Blood surges south at the thought of her touching herself to other people fucking.

“I’m dying to get my hands on you right now.”

“Then, put your hands on me, Tyson.”

She pushes her underwear past her hips and kicks them aside.

I start at her chin, trailing my fingers down her throat, over the swell of her breast, across the flat of her stomach.

Her skin pebbles; her muscles twitch. She doesn’t pull away.

She touches me, too, mirroring my movements, exploring, familiarizing herself with me.

I pause just above the apex of her thighs. We’re both trembling—me from adrenaline and lust, her for reasons I can’t quite name.

“Are you ready?”

“I’m eager,” she says, guiding my hand through her soft curls until my fingers rest on her clit. “Oh, God.”

“Keep looking at me, Kit,” I tell her, cupping her temple with my free hand as my fingers begin to tease the most sensitive part of her. She pants, eyes glazing with lust.

“Stay with me.”

“I’m here. I’m here. It feels…so much.”

I slide lower, dipping one finger inside her—just enough for a taste.

“Tyson.”

It’s a plea for more. I press my thumb to her mouth until she pulls it in, then add a second finger inside her drenched heat. She rocks on my hand, her teeth biting into the meat of my thumb, and my cock throbs in response.

“Can I taste you, Kit? Can I make you come?”

“Please,” she cries. “Please, Tyson.”

I scoop her into my arms and lay her on the bed. Her hair fans around her like a dark halo—an angel with a sinful aura. Except there’s nothing sinful about Kit. She’s everything good and precious.

I adjust her legs, spreading them until my shoulders fit between. My hands cup behind her knees, lifting them.

“You move however makes you feel good, okay?” She nods.

This will be the first time she doesn’t have to bring herself over the edge.

I’ll only be satisfied if I blow her mind.

“Dig your heels into my back, pull my hair, bite my hand—whatever you need to get what you want. I can take it. I want to take it.”

She nods again, and I settle between her thighs. I inhale her scent before pressing my thumb to her folds and opening her up for my first taste. She’s warm, sweet—and she jumps when I flick her clit.

One heel digs into my back, giving her leverage to grind against my mouth as I lick and fuck her with my tongue.

The way she’s responded tonight is astonishing. I’d have given her all the time in the world. After what she’s been through, I expected her to be timid, even afraid. Instead, she’s been nothing but brave—bold in reclaiming her life.

That I get to be part of that? It wrecks me in the best possible way.

Stiffening my tongue, I fuck her with new zeal, circling her clit with my thumb.

“Tyson, I…I’m close.”

I hum into her, pleased that she’s nearly there. I pull at her breast, and her hips rock up. Over and over. Then, her palm lands on the back of my head, pressing my mouth to her pussy, and I give her everything I can until she cries out her pleasure. I don’t stop licking, sucking, touching her.

“Oh my fucking God, oh my God,” she chants until her orgasm subsides and the same sobbing laughter as last time kicks in.

“Hey, hey.” Crawling up her body, I cradle her against my chest. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m okay,” she says between hiccupping breaths. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t know, Tyson.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That it could be so good. That it could be fun,” she says into my neck. “I’m so mad about that.”

“You’re mad it was fun?” I ask, already knowing what she means but wanting her to keep talking. Wanting to keep her present in the moment and not slipping into some lonely place inside her head.

“Mad that I’ve missed out on so much of it from being afraid.”

“That’s not your fault, Kit. It’s a natural response,” I say, turning my face to hers. “I’ll help you make up for lost time.”

Her hands snake up between us and cup my cheeks as she stares at me, her eyes bouncing between mine.

“Thank you, Tyson,” she says softly. “Thank you for being everything I need and not running away from my messiness.”

“Never, Kit. I’m never running away,” I promise. “Besides, I like getting dirty.”