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I lifted her ankle. Something inside me wanted my lips on her. The guilt of abusing Chandelle’s honor could kill me for it later. Right now, I didn’t give a fuck.
I kissed Feebee’s foot, kneeling before her like I was begging for her attention, and if she woke up, I probably would have fucking begged for her attention. I would beg with my eyes and gentle touches. I would plead with my tongue touching anywhere she could feel.
I tested a lick on her foot, my tongue moving from heel to toe, the electric pink polish disappearing between my lips. It felt arousing, and I wasn’t a foot guy...until tonight. A night where I needed any part of her to touch me. I kept an eye on her face, stealing glances of the sleeping beauty as I sucked harder, grew harder, and ached beyond fucking words for her.
I nibbled before moving to her instep, kisses shadowing the movement.
My cock peeped higher above my waistband, coming to see why it wasn’t getting attention. I rolled down my boxers, took it in one hand and began stroking myself again. My fingers moved slowly, pulling my skin back to reveal a shiny head. I needed more. I needed to fucking come so I could get out of this room and get these thoughts out of my head.
My grip tightened, my thumb rubbing over the most sensitive part of my cock as my pace picked up. My head dropped back, but only for a minute. A minute where I convinced myself this woman was open-legged—her satin underwear looped around one ankle while she played with her clit as I masturbated at her feet.
She wasn’t doing that. She was still asleep.
But she still looked fucking beautiful.
I dropped her foot into my lap, and it landed so close to my cock. I shuddered, waiting for the blast of pain that didn’t come. But it still interrupted my rhythm. My cum sank back into my balls just as I was about to blow. I looked down at her toes, the pretty pink hypnotizing me into doing something I never thought I would.
I put her toes against my cock and my hand around her foot, and the thought of her touching me here...it made me fucking hot. My hips rocked into our joined touch, her toes rubbing over the wet head of my cock, and I tingled. Oh, I fucking tingled, from my head to my toes tucked under my ass.
My breathing went wild, noises that didn’t bother her as much as they did me, fell off my scarred tongue, and I came. Laces of hot cum lashed her foot and my fingers, sticking us together, the milky white stream running between her pretty perfect toes. I wasn’t opposed to the dirty stuff.
I brought her foot back to my mouth, seductively touching my lips with her sticky toes. My eyes stayed on her. Her eyes were still closed, long lashes fluttering. My other hand was still on my dick, convinced it had more to give.
And it did.
I blew again all over my stomach as I licked her foot clean.
I massaged her foot until it was dry before placing it back on the footrest of her chair. I fell back on my ass, needing to be away from her.
I instantly felt dirty. Felt regret. Again.
I felt hate...but it was no longer for her.
It was for me.
I betrayed Chandelle’s honor and all our memories. Again.
And I fucking hated myself for it.
Chapter 17
Feebee
My aching neck screamed a wailing sound of agony, only drowned out by something much louder in the hallway. Men. Loud, with tools that rivaled them. I’d fallen asleep in my chair, gravity pulling my head to an uncomfortable angle. My fingers tried and failed to rub away the ache terrorizing the muscles in my neck.
I blinked the tiredness from my gaze, having no idea what was going on beyond my bedroom door, and I wasn’t brave enough to venture out and ask questions.
The pink sky matched my room, looking prettier for only being outside. I didn’t turn to see it, catching minimal reflections only from the view of a mirror.
My body craved the feel of grass again. It had been so long. So long since I did anything I liked. I forced myself to turn, my arms working slowly to spin my chair and not put any more pressure on my stiff neck.
My tray was gone from the dresser. I careened back to the door, shocked I hadn’t heard anyone come in and take it...that hurt my neck, and I yelped. My door flew open, and Mercer filled the open space. A second later, he was between my legs. Close. Too close. Close enough for me to see lines of concern etched on his forehead.
“What hurt you?” he mouthed, not waiting to pull out a Post-it or that annoying little keyboard that triggered the voice I loathed.
“Nothing,” I stuttered, shocked by his concern. His eyes dwelled on my lips, fascinated by the stammer. His finger followed, gently tracing the fullness of my lower lip before I said, “I have a stiff neck.”
His features hardened, turning back to stone and pelting me with it. Eager legs removed him from me, taking him from the room.
