I reached down, biting her chin softly. “Anyone ever told you you’re a brat?”
“Yes, and often.” She pushed my head down her body, spreading her legs, her shorts still intact. I tugged the fabric between her legs to one side, licking my lips. My cock was so engorged I wondered if I had blood circulation coming to my brain at all. Leaning down, I kissed her slit. The warmth of my lips found the heat of her center. She moaned, surprising me again by peering between her legs curiously, watching me.
I started French-kissing her pussy. Dragging my tongue in and out of her. She tasted good. Earthy and sweet. My new favorite dessert.
Pushing her wider using my fingers, I dug deeper with my tongue. Her hand found my hair. She pulled at it, tilting my face up to watch her.
Fuck, she was hot when she was being a controlling bitch.
“Suck my clit,” she demanded.
“Ask nicely.”
“Suck my clit, or I’m kicking you out.” She awarded me with a winning smile in the dark.
I needed no further instructions and dug right in, sucking on the small bud while finger-fucking her. As much as I enjoyed it—and I did enjoy it—I waited for the moment she’d come, pull me up, and let me in. I needed to be inside her. To erase the day from my memory. But I also recognized what she was doing here. Taking control. Just the way I did when I played my little fantasy games.
“More fingers.” She flung one of her legs over my shoulder.
I complied.
“I’m coming.”
“Yes,” I breathed, picking up the pace. “Shit, yes.”
She fell apart, her muscles clenching around my fingers. A rush of warmth traveled through her. She shuddered violently, and I wondered what brand of stupid idiot I was to think only women enjoyed giving oral sex. This was officially the best thing since sliced bread.
I pulled away, quickly unbuckling my belt.
With the room around me still spinning, I felt the tip of Hallie’s leg as she pushed me off the mattress, her foot pressed against my chest. I lost my balance and fell flat on my ass at the foot of her bed.
“What the hell?” I inquired from my new position on the floor.
“The hell, is you’ve been an asshole to me all day. A mistake, my ass, Random. We’re going to have sex on the reg. Now that you’ve given me what I wanted, I’m ready to go back to sleep. Make sure you close the door on your way out.”
She offered me another yawn, turning around to her original position, on her side, hair flung against her pillow.
The weeks after Ransom stumbled into my room in the middle of the night smelling like a low-end brothel passed in fake domestic bliss.
Max was MIA, due to Ransom never leaving my side. Day and night, he followed me everywhere. To my stupid Hollywood premieres, tacky friends’ birthday bashes, and even to my Pilates and smoothie dates with Keller.
The day after he ate me out, I slept late, went down to the kitchen in my sunglasses, and demanded he give my credit card back.
“You want in my bed, you’ll need to give me equal rights.”
To my surprise, he didn’t argue. He didn’t try to sleep with me again, either.
…until three days later, when I dragged him with me to a secondhand shop and tried on a fabulous Balenciaga mini dress.
“Random, could you help me zip it up?” I purred from the changing room.
He joined me inside, slipping the zipper up my back silently. I turned toward him, smirking. “How do I look?”
“Good enough to eat,” he said dejectedly, turning around, about to leave.
“Then do.”
He pinned me to the floor-to-ceiling mirror and fucked me mercilessly, playing out our fantasies while I tried to kick him off, our moans muffled by the hot, dirty kiss we shared the entire time, until he came inside me.