Page 68 of A Deal with the Devil

“Only this,” I whisper. “Nothing more. And it all goes back to normal in the morning. We’re friends again. No weirdness. Promise?”

His fingers push into my hair, and he turns my face toward his.

“I promise.” He grabs the wine glass out of my hand, putting it down on the little table to his right, and then comes back to me. His hand rests on my waist, face inches from mine and I suck in a breath at his closeness. He glances at my mouth and for one endless second, I think he will kiss me. He swallows and then his lips move lower—to my jawline, then my neck. They linger there and he breathes deep, as if I’m wine he’s just decanted. Already I’m arching toward him, like a flower toward the sun.

I feel the flutter of his pulse beneath my palm, faster than normal. His hand moves up my body, skimming my breast. He runs his fingers along the top of my sundress, dipping for a moment into the cleft between my breasts.

“This,” he says quietly, his eyes never leaving me, like I’m a meal he’s waited a lifetime for. “This made me crazy all night.”

Grasping the fabric, he slowly lowers my dress down to my waist, freeing my breasts to him completely. His quiet groan grazes my skin, pebbling my nipples, and he traces one with an index finger before his mouth lowers to grace it with a gentle kiss.

I arch upward as something bursts open inside me. My blood is racing, my body taut and reckless.

“Oh,” I gasp. “That...”

I can’t really form the rest of the sentence, and I don’t need to. He knows. He knows I need more, that suddenly I need everything. He does it again, using his teeth this time. A pulse beats in my core, insistent and demanding. My knee bends as my foot slides up the back of his leg, in a silent plea for action.

I want to tell him to forget about his plans. I want to reach for his belt and pull him inside me. But already he’s noticed the way my skirt has fallen to my waist, exposing me. His hands trail along my inner thighs and then he pushes my legs apart, his eyes following their progress as if the Holy Grail is at the end of their path.

And then his fingertips press against my panties.

Oh. Even that tiny brush of his fingers is waking something up in me, something I’d almost forgotten existed. My eyelids flutter closed, but not before I see him watching my reaction, avid and satisfied.

His index finger hooks under the elastic and drags along my core. My head falls backward, arching my neck. “Oh, God,” I whisper. But what if it doesn’t work? the voice in my head echoes. I don’t want him to look at me like Matt used to afterward, silently resentful.

“Stop thinking, Tali,” he whispers, pressing his lips to the soft skin of my inner thigh. “This is just you and me, no one else.” He strokes me again. “Do you feel my fingers against you?”

I swallow as he refocuses my attention. The calloused pad of his index finger brushes against my clit before it slides lower. That tiny brush lights me on fire. I’m not sure it’s even possible to worry when he’s doing what he is right now.

“Yes.” The word is breathy, desperate.

His mouth moves up my thigh, his shoulder forcing my legs further apart, allowing him more access. He presses his lips to my clit, outside my panties, before pushing the panties to the side entirely and swiping his tongue over me, top to bottom.

“Jesus, you’re so wet right now.” He glides his fingers up and down, and then pushes one inside me, to emphasize his point. I let my knees drop open even more, encouraging him. His fingers circle my opening and I groan out loud before he slides two fingers inside me, his tongue continuing to flicker over my clit in the most torturous way.

It’s unlike anything else. I rock my hips against his fingers as he starts to move them in and out of me. I’m not even going to last a minute and I want it to last. I want him to keep doing exactly this until we have to check out in the morning. Preferably, until I have to move home.

His thumb replaces his mouth on my clit as he applies more pressure and my head starts to spin. My breath comes out in small gasps, in rhythm with the thrust of my hips. I hear him moan and the clank of his belt as it falls open, followed by his zipper, and then...the sound of his free hand, moving over his own length.

My eyes open to watch him. His mouth is slightly ajar, his gaze dark and drugged, his grip on his cock so tight it looks painful.

That’s all it takes.

Every muscle in my abdomen pulls tight. “Oh, God,” I whisper. “I’m gonna come.”

He buries his face between my legs and licks hard as I arch against him with my hands in his hair. Fireworks explode behind my eyes as I finally let go, crying out as the entire world falls away. He doesn’t let up for a moment until I reach down to wrap my hand around the one currently gripping his cock.

“Come here,” I gasp, and he knows exactly what I mean, rising quickly, climbing over me to press his cock to my lips like he’ll die if he doesn’t get it there soon enough.

“I’m close,” he hisses, as my tongue slides over him. “Oh, fuck, I’m so close.”

I take him as far as I can, my fist sliding over his base, and when I pull hard with my mouth, he inhales sharply. “Coming. God.”

He starts to pull out but explodes before he can, and I wrap my hands around his hips, holding him where he is, taking everything he gives me.

He finishes with a low, delicious groan of relief, the most gorgeous sound I’ve ever heard him make.

He’s breathing heavily as he collapses, his head on my chest.