Why did she ask? Why did she ever think of it? Why was that want hot on her tongue, behind her lips, trapped in the miniscule spaces between her teeth?
Tommy’s quick to receive her- of course he is
Asshole couldn’t be anything but.
It is with a slow, terrible reluctance she pulls herself away, far enough to keep the will to press herself against him in the back of her mind.
“Nope. Still a frog and not a prince. Bummer.”
There’s always something so red-hot about Darcy, and he’s never able to tell if the moments where they indulge like this tame or add to the inferno. Either way, it’s addicting, the way her body will feel under his hands and the taste of her mouth on his tongue.
She has control this time. Fascinating. Could he break it?
“Is that meant to be a comment on the things my tongue can do?”
