She licked her lips, waited. “What do you think?”
He smiled at her, a flash of dimple that made her knees weak and her pu**y even wetter. “I’m thinking it’s a shame we don’t have cherries for those little ni**les of yours. Guess I’ll just make do.”
He leaned down and captured the peak of one breast in his mouth, his tongue scraping over it.
She moaned. Oh God. That felt…incredibly erotic. He leaned and suckled at the peak, cleaning it with his mouth, his hand holding his dog tags out of the way. His tongue swirled out, grazing over the flesh of her breast, carefully cleaning it off. With every stroke of his tongue, she grew wetter and hotter, her mind ultra-focused on the traveling of his tongue. It slid to the underside of her breast, traced along the valley between her br**sts, lapping and rasping. He’d frequently stop back at her nipple, swirling his tongue back over it again.
By the time he moved over to her other breast and began to suck on the sweet peak, she was moaning with need. Her hands gripped at the countertop, and when he licked at the hard nipple, she pushed it farther into his mouth. Needing more. Wanting more. Loving the delicious torture. She needed him to touch her pu**y, though, and he wasn’t. His fingers were still sticky with frosting. So she thrust her breast into his mouth, and was rewarded with a tiny bite that made her gasp in her throat.
“Stay still,” he said with a low chuckle. And his tongue swept over her breast again.
By the time he was done with both br**sts, she was whimpering with need. Her sticky hands went to his hair and she tried to pull him in to kiss her. She needed him so badly. But he slipped out of her grasp and grabbed the frosting again. “You taste sweet, but I haven’t had all of you yet.”
“But—” she bit back her protest. He was going to frost her…there?
He dipped another finger into the frosting, looked up at her, and kissed her bent knee. “Spread your legs, darlin’.”
With a whimper, she did. “Not in me—”
“’Course not,” he said softly. And she felt him slather the top of her pu**y, where she kept her mound bare and neat because she knew he liked it. “But I had to give this pretty little thing attention.”
And his mouth descended there, ravenously flicking against her mound, then sliding to her clit.
“Colt,” she cried out, and then her hands were on his head and she was pushing him there, grinding his face into her pu**y. His tongue rasped against her clit and she cried out when he gave it another long, slow, circling lick, then darted away to finish cleaning the frosting off of her mound. He licked his lips as if she tasted delicious, and then his mouth went to her clit again, sucking and lapping as if it was the sweetest treat yet. Her nails dug into his scalp, and a moment later, she felt the orgasm rip through her body. She moaned his name again, and his tongue flicked and flicked, bringing shockwave after shockwave rippling through her bucking hips. When the last ripple of pleasure tore through her, she lowered her hips—she’d been arching them off the counter to push them harder against his mouth, it’d seem—she gave a wobbly sigh.
He pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. “Never going to be able to eat chocolate again without thinking of you under me, pushing your pu**y into my mouth.”
She blushed. Like she’d ever be able to think of cake again without thinking of his fist curled around the base of his cock, spilling frosting over the hard length so she could lick it up.
Her hips twitched in response. Down, girl. She turned her head and looked at the cake. “You did that for me?”
“I did,” he said, the words a low drawl.
“We didn’t even eat a slice.” Strange how she wasn’t disappointed about that in the slightest.
“Night’s young,” he said, and ran his teeth over her knee, then caressed it as if he couldn’t stop tasting her, touching her. “We could get dressed, shower, and have ourselves a cake party back at my cabin.”
She grinned. “That sounds like a plan…after we clean the counters here.”
His chuckle of response made her heart feel warm.
THIRTEEN
It took an hour to clean up the kitchen, and another half hour before they’d showered and sat back down in his small cabin to eat a piece of cake. Beth Ann had cut a piece of the cake and sat in Colt’s lap, naked, her hair pulled up in a towel. He sat under her clad only in his briefs and dog tags, and she occasionally fed him a bite of cake, though he’d insisted that it was all for her. With her hands occupied and her lovely mouth eating his cake, he was free to explore and touch her body. He couldn’t get enough of her soft skin.
His hands stroked over every inch of her flesh, his fingers teasing her small ni**les as she relaxed against him and ate cake, and told him about her day. As she was telling him about another tedious Halloween committee meeting, her phone buzzed with a text message.
“Leave it,” he said automatically, and rolled his fingers over one nipple, eliciting a responsive shiver from her.
“It’ll bother me until I see it,” she said with a smile. She slid out of his grasp and put her plate next to the small kitchenette sink before heading over to get her phone. “It might be Miranda. She said she was going to send me some pictures of how she wanted to do her hair for Halloween.”
“If she’s anything other than a sexy librarian, Dane’ll be disappointed.” He watched her pretty, plump ass sway as she moved to the sink. This was how it’d be if they lived together. Her, naked and wandering around his place, having a conversation about their day.
He’d be down with that.
Beth Ann snorted at his comment, and picked up her phone. She clicked on the phone, and then her mouth tensed.
“What is it?” The protective instinct welled up inside him, and he resisted the urge to take the phone out of her hand and smash it, just so she’d stop frowning so much.
She’d been frowning too much lately.
“It’s Allan,” she said in a flat voice. “And judging by the amount of typos, he’s drunk dialing me.” She stared at the small screen, tilted her head and recited, “‘Bethy-babe, I miss you, love you, and want you back. My life is incomplete’—he spelled incomplete wrong, by the way—‘without you. You deserve better than that ass**le Colt. You don’t know him like I do. He’s not who you think’—oh, and then it cuts off. Idiot.”