Page 115 of Rising Heat

I curl deeper into the sofa, another wave of embarrassment washing over me.

“He said he didn’t like to,” I admit quietly. “Said he didn’t like the way it tastes…”

Tyler snorts.

“Pathetic.” He shakes his head. “What kind of man doesn’t like the taste of pussy?”

His eyes flick up to mine.

“I’m beginning to think you’ve never been properly fucked.”

I’m beginning to think so, too.

Tyler’s expression softens, the teasing giving way to something gentler.

“Do you want to, Trouble?” He asks. “Honestly.”

I swallow against the sudden knot in my throat and nod.

“Yes…”

PLEASE.

He gives me a lazy smile.

“Good,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “’Cause I’ve been fucking dying to taste you.”

Before I can think about what that means, Tyler’s already on his knees, hands gripping my ankles and jerking me closer to his face. He starts making his way toward my dripping center, trailing light kisses up my ankles, then my knees, nipping and licking his way up my inner thighs.

Behind me, Mack moves silently to the back of the couch and leans over me, his rough fingers easing my legs further apart to hold me open while Tyler’s tongue begins to lap at my arousal.

My head drops back and I shut my eyes.

“Oh my god,” I whimper.

“Eyes up here,” Mack grumbles. “I wanna watch you come on my brother’s tongue.”

My eyes snap to Mack’s, but the only response I can manage is a high-pitched moan as Tyler thrusts his tongue inside me before his mouth settles over my swollen clit.

“You’re cute when you’re falling apart. You forget your words, baby?”

“Fuck,” Tyler breathes, his voice muffled enough to vibrate straight through me. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

My gaze drops to him.

“I do?”

Tyler looks up at me.

“Wanna taste?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

His thumb brushes my chin until my lips part, and he swipes his tongue over mine, letting me taste myself on his tongue.

I feel my skin flush, both of them noticing immediately.

Tyler’s mouth brushes mine one last time.