Page 25 of Depraved

“Are you alright?” My voice is rough, barely human.

“Wonderful.” She licks her lips, savoring my taste.

I groan against her mouth, worshipping the lips that just brought me one of the greatest highs of my life.

Her hands tug at my shirt, and I obediently strip for her. My trembling fingers fumble at her clothes, too. I need to feel her against me, nothing separating us.

When we’re both naked, I find the strength to lift her up and place her on our bed. I arrange her body over mine, and she tucks her head beneath my chin with a happy sigh.

“That was amazing,” she says.

“I should’ve made you come first,” I reply regretfully. “I lost control.”

She flashes me that bratty grin. “Good. I wanted you to.”

I rub my thumb over her lips. “That mouth. What am I going to do with you?”

Her expression sobers slightly. “You’re going to let me explore you for a while. I want to see you.”

Her hand splays over my chest, directly over my heart.

My stomach dips. She’s talking about the tattoos.

“Do they scare you?” I ask, tense.

“A little,” she admits. “This is…a lot. But I’m giving us a chance. I can’t ignore what’s happened between us. You’ve known me as Karolina for years, but I’m only starting to really know you. Let me.”

I nod tightly. I’m afraid she’ll run from me again if I allow her to examine the tattoos too closely—the physical signs of my obsession with her.

“You shouldn’t have blindfolded me last time,” she admonishes, but it’s a gentle rebuke. “You hid these from me.”

She traces the curve of her tattooed cheek where it’s inked into my upper arm, and I can’t suppress a shudder of desire at the tender touch.

“I know I was wrong. I should’ve told you who I am at the hunt. I’m sorry.”

She presses her finger to my lips. “That’s enough apologizing. I need to take a few minutes to process this.”

She peers into my eyes. “Are you wearing contacts?” She glances at the glasses I discarded when we undressed.

My stomach dips. Does she suspect the contacts are concealing my true eye color: blue?

That was one defining characteristic that the shotgun blast didn’t change. The brown lenses I’ve been wearing as Rand have fooled her so far.

She sighs. “The glasses are fake, aren’t they?”

I force myself to maintain eye contact. “Yes. I thought they made me look more academic.”

It’s the truth. Barely.

To my surprise, she huffs a laugh. “I kind of like the slutty little glasses, Professor.”

She plucks them up from the nightstand and slides them onto my face.

“Have I mentioned smart guys are a turn-on?”

I can’t help grasping her hips and pulling her cunt closer to my cock. My dick stiffens beneath her.

She blinks. “Already?”