Page 70 of Trailer Trash

“I am?” My cheeks burn hot. “Wait. Condom?”

“Don’t worry, you won’t get me pregnant,” he jokes effortlessly, which of course makes me laugh, but his grin softens. “I’m clean. I got tested. You on birth control?”

I nod.

“Good.” He uncurls my fingers, which are holding the hem of my dress, desperately trying to keep the fabric over my crotch. Then he pushes the dress up, revealing my sexy black thong. The pad of his thumb slowly strokes over the lace, from entrance to clit, feeling my shape.

“Not frumpy,” he says under his breath. “You wear these for me, baby?”

He knows I didn’t. I wore them for Jaxson — just in case. Why’d he ask that? I scrunch my brow.

A palm hits the side of my hip, leaving fire in its wake.

He repeats, “Did you wear these for me, baby?” Then, he nods as if showing me how to respond.

Oh.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I bought them for you.”

He grins, crooked and wicked. He’s so sexy that it steals my breath.

I lift my hips off the mattress as he pulls off my panties. He bites his fist as he gazes down. “Goddamn, you even waxed for me.”

I blush, loving this role-playing. I giggle softly and nod.

“Yep, I waxed for you,” I say proudly, which makes him pleased.

“It’s pathetic,” he says.

The comment jars me. “Wha— What’s pathetic?”

“How I have to make you laugh so you aren’t scared of me. Like you could do anything wrong tonight? That’s the thing about you. I never get tired of your laugh.”

He lowers himself between my thighs and blows on my clit, causing me to suck in a sharp breath. “Like I haven’t been dying to taste you.” He spreads his fingers into a peace sign and drags his fingertips up and down the sides of my pussy. He massages, back and forth. My lips swell at the closeness, and his mouth hasn’t even touched me.

Then he kisses my aching clit, and the coldness of his lips both chills and heats my body. I hold my bottom lip between my teeth, watching him touch my body so delicately. He teases, making kitten-licks, dipping out his tongue just enough to make me lift my hips off the bed, chasing him. His tongue finally stays touching, and slips into my entrance, before dragging up to my most sensitive spot.

“Mm, Killian,” I moan, my throat tight.

His teeth close down, just enough to tug at my clit before saying, “Call me yours.”

My lashes flutter. He stares at me. Two fingers slide into my entrance, slow and long.

I shiver when his tongue returns to my skin, his eyes watching me as I fumble.

“I, um, you’re mine.”

His mouth devours, rewarding me for my obedience. My eyes roll back as he finger-fucks me and laps my clit like the man was made for it.

“Oh my God,” I cry out, and my thighs clamp around his ears as I reach my climax.

“That’s right, you pathetic thing. I get you off,” he murmurs against my skin.

It’s true. The only man to make me orgasm in years is Killian.

I pant, ragged and stunned.

“Damn,” is all I can say.