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this birthday.

After I say goodbye to Devan forever.

Chapter 12

I don’t mean to fall asleep. When there are so few hours left in this fling, I want to soak up every second with Devan. I can sleep once this is over. Unfortunately, my body has other ideas.

I wake up in a panic, suddenly sure that he’s taken this opportunity to slip out of my life permanently. That last night was all a ruse after we came that last time, that he regrets it and just wanted to let me down gently by not letting me down at all. Ghosting is so much simpler than having rough emotional conversations or rejecting the woman who used to be your ward and has a boatload of baggage.

I start to sit up, only to be brought short by a heavy weight over half my body. I open my eyes to find Devan sleeping pressed to my side, one arm draped over my waist and one leg wedged between mine. I couldn’t escape this bed if I wanted to, and I suddenly very much do not want to.

He’s still here.

There’s no point in examining the sheer relief that courses through me at that realization. Certainly no reason to look further into the future to the inevitable crash and burn of my emotions when this is over. I can scream up and down and sideways that this is just sex and just letting off steam that’s been building for six years, but some part of me knows it’s more than that.

Plenty of time to muddle through that mess later.

I have other things on my mind currently.

Devan shifts against me, hitching his leg higher until his thick thigh is pressed against my pussy. “Morning.”

“Morning,” I whisper.

“How you feeling with a few hours of sleep behind you?”

Easy enough to read between the lines. He wants to know if I’m having regrets or all freaked out. I am freaked out, but not in a way Devan can fix. I squeeze my legs around his, urging him closer yet. “I’m feeling needy.”

Devan makes a sound nearly like a growl and buries his face in my neck, kissing and gently biting me. “Can’t have that.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I can think of a few things.” He moves down my body slowly, lavishing my breasts with kisses. “A certain birthday girl mentioned kissing her pretty pussy better last night.”

I arch up, whimpering as he continues his journey south. “She sounds really smart.”

“She is.” He settles between my thighs. “Smartest girl I ever met.” He kisses my pussy before I can figure out if he’s just talking shit or if he actually means it. Devan traces his tongue over me as if he has all the time in the world and intends to taste every inch of me. I melt under his little strokes and licks. Last night was so intense and nearly overwhelming—in a good way—that this slow, lazy moment feels particularly sinful.

I dig my hands into Devan’s hair. “More. Make me come.”

“When I’m ready.” He ignores me trying to tug him up to focus on my clit. Something about that only makes pleasure weave through me faster. I love that he’s so much stronger than me, that he can do anything he wants to me, that he won’t unless I want him to. My breathing becomes harsher the closer I get to coming, until I’m panting and whimpering and shaking beneath him.

He shifts up to suck my clit into his mouth—hard—and shoves two fingers into me. I orgasm instantly. Devan doesn’t linger this time. He crawls up my body and then he’s working his cock inside me in slow, short strokes. I’m still sore from yesterday, but that only makes the pleasure soar higher.

I always did like a little pain with my pleasure.

He doesn’t say a word. I don’t have the air to try. We simply fuck slowly until he brings me to orgasm again and follows me over the edge. It’s only when he drops down next to me that I have the mental capacity to wonder what the fuck just happened. This wasn’t a birthday, wasn’t any kind of fantasy. This was just us.

Devan looks like he wants to say something, and I’m suddenly certain that he’s about to let me down just as gently as the sex we just finished. I can’t deal with that. Not right now, when it feels like my heart resides outside my chest, beaten and bloody and far too vulnerable. I react on instinct, slipping out of the bed and fleeing to the bathroom.

Like a coward.

What am I supposed to do?

Tell him that no matter what I said at the beginning, this isn’t just sex for me? It might be truth, but the boundaries were very clear when we started this. Devan didn’t agree to more, and after everything he’s done for me, I’d be the most selfish of bitches to demand it of him. If I was any less selfish, I’d call the whole thing off right now instead of letting it go on and letting myself sink deeper into this murky emotional mess.

I’m not less selfish.

I’m not going to give Devan up a moment before I absolutely have to.

I brush my teeth and wash my face. Without my makeup, feel naked in a way I didn't even when I didn’t have a single item of clothing on. Even pulling on the hotel robe hanging on the back of the door doesn’t help. I’m still debating on taking a shower and putting a full face back on when Devan knocks on the bathroom door. “Just a minute,” I call. My voice sounds horrifyingly shaky.

“Open the door, Hazel.”

“I’m not decent.” Why the hell did I say that? It doesn’t even make sense.

“Hazel.” A pause. “Do you want to use red?”

“No.” It’s the truth, even if I’m not sure of anything else at the moment.

“Then open this fucking door and stop hiding from me.”

Damn him for forcing the issue. He’s

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