Chapter 22

Shane pulls me up and gathers me to him, holding me close as I ease back into my body. “Holy shit,” I repeat. “Do you think you can die from sex being too good? Because I think I might be dying.”

His rough laugh makes me shiver. Shane shifts back enough to gently clasp my chin and lift my face to his. He kisses me, the barest brushing of his mouth to mine. “You say that now, but in about thirty seconds, you’ll be begging for more.”

“I don’t know.” I cling to him, his steadiness soothing something inside me. “It’s never been like this before. It’s never even been close.”

He releases my chin and tucks my head in against his shoulder. “It’s never been like this for me, either.”

Alarms try to blare through my head, a warning that we’re both in deep and sinking fast, but I can’t make myself care. Maybe we were always in too deep and this weekend is only showcasing exactly how fucked we are. “Shane…”

This time he doesn’t interrupt me, doesn’t distract me. He just waits. If I was stronger, I’d tell him about the complicated feelings in my chest, the ones that signal that this is anything but a simple revenge fuck. I’m not strong though. I’m a coward.

I nudge him back a step and slide down to my knees in front of him. Something akin to disappointment flickers over his face before he runs his fingers through my hair and shifts it to wrap around his left fist. He wraps his other hand around his cock and taps it to my bottom lip. “Open.”

This isn’t like in the truck earlier. He let me suck his dick then. Now he’s fully intending on fucking my mouth.

“One day, I want to see your lips painted a pretty pink and wrapped around my cock.” He thrusts slowly, letting me adjust as much as I’m able to. “This, though? This is fucking perfection, baby girl.” He hesitates. “It gets to be too much, you slap my thigh. Do you understand?”

He allows me to withdraw enough to answer. “Yes,

Daddy.” I should leave it at that, but I can’t. “It won’t be too much.”

His dark laugh is the only warning I get before he starts moving again. Where before, he was easing me in, because he’s so damn careful with me, now he’s using me to get himself off. Using my mouth.

He’s too big, too long, just too fucking much. He’s barely halfway in when he’s triggering my gag reflex. “Use your hand, Lily.” He barely slows down to allow me to obey, gagging me just the tiniest bit with every stroke, his expression downright ferocious as if daring me to protest. I fist my hand around his cock.

I almost panic. I can’t breathe with him filling me, can’t control anything, can’t stop him from going too far…

And just like that, a switch flips in my brain and I stop fighting him. I relax entirely into what he’s doing, letting him in deeper, letting him control everything. It allows him another precious inch or two, but he looks like I just gave him a priceless gift. “That’s right, baby girl. Trust me. Take me deep.”

I move my fist as a counterpoint to the way he fucks my mouth, driven on by his low curses and moans. He looks pained as he stares down at me. “Jesus Christ, Lily. Sweet fuck, suck me harder. I’m close.”

I obey. I’m helpless to do anything but exactly what he wants me to. When he comes, I swallow him down, sucking his cock even as his grip loosens and it’s more like he’s hanging on for support than trying to hold me in place. He finally drags me off his cock with a curse and watches me with an almost strained expression as I lick my lips.

“You might not be the only one who dies from fucking.” Shane pulls me to my feet and kisses me hard. We taste like each other, like the dirtiest kind of fucking, like the promise of more. He finally releases me and tucks his cock back in his pants, but the way his gaze skates over me says he’s considering another plan of attack. “Seeing you in that tiny skirt and knowing I can slip my hand under it whenever I want is addicting, Lily.” He does exactly as he says, palming me under my skirt. “I can’t get enough,” he murmurs, almost as if he’s talking to himself. He wedges two fingers into me and then goes still as if savoring the way I feel. “You make me feel like I’m eighteen and just want to fuck and fuck and fuck.”

I release a shuddering breath. “I feel like that with you, too.”

“You need to eat something.”

“I’m really not hungry.”

For some reason, that makes him shake his head. He withdraws his fingers slowly, reluctantly, and then smooths down my skirt as if making sure everything is in its place. Then he holds my gaze as he sucks his fingers into his mouth and cleans me off him.

“Fuck,” I breathe. “Why is that so hot?”

“Because it’s us.” He walks to the sink to wash his hands and then moves to the fridge. “Why don’t you go watch some TV? This will be a little bit.”

It’s not exactly a command, but it sounds firmer than a suggestion. “Yes, Daddy,” I say primly and then walk out while he’s still cursing.