Page 35 of Bones and Ashes

She moans low in her throat and her hand on my cock gets meaner, gets faster, pumpin' me like she's tryin' to make me come right here before we even get to the bed. I let her do it for a second. Two. Because it feels fuckin' unreal — her mouth swollen from the kiss, her tit in my hand, her palm slidin' up and down my shaft — and I wanna remember exactly how this looks before I make her stop.

Then I catch her wrist.

"Easy, baby."

She looks up at me through her lashes, all innocent, like she don't know what she was doin'. She knows. She knows exactly what she was doin'.

I bend my head, drag my mouth down her throat, bite the soft spot where her pulse is goin' wild. Pull the other cup of that bra down too because I wanna see both of her, and Christ, I do. I fondle her slow, both hands now, just feelin' the weight and the softness and the way she arches into my palms like a cat that finally got what it was beggin' for.

"On your knees."

It comes out rougher than I meant. Her eyes flick up to mine and there's a second — half a second — where I see her decide somethin'. Then she's sinkin', slow, dress hangin' open, tits bare, knees findin' the rug in front of her fireplace that probably cost more than my whole goddamn trailer.

I look down at her and I can't breathe right.

Savannah Ashby on her knees in that prairie dress with her tits out and her mouth wet and her eyes lookin' up at me like I'm the answer to a question she's been askin' her whole life. This is what's wrong with me. This is exactly what's wrong. I got thirty-six dead behind the clubhouse and a fed namin' himself Mike and a brother I didn't know I had drinkin' my whiskey, and all I can think about is her tongue.

Jesus, Legion.

She wraps her hand back around me, guides me to her mouth, and waits. Looks up. Waits. Makes me watch her wait. My woman knows what she's doin' to me.

"Open up, baby."

She does.

And when her lips close around the tip of me — warm and soft and wet and perfect — every goddamn thing that happened this mornin' drops out of my head clean. Mike's folder, gone. The bikes at the gate, gone. Laz's face that looks too much like my own, gone. June's grief I earned, gone.

There's just her.

Just this.

Just the slow, sweet pull of Savannah's mouth takin' me deeper, and my hand findin' her hair, and the sound she makes low in her throat like she's been waitin' all day for this.

She don't rush.

That's the thing about Savannah when she's like this — she don't rush a single goddamn thing. Her mouth slides down me slow, all the way, until I feel the back of her throat openin' up around me, and then slower still on the way back, tongue workin' underneath the whole drag. Then again. Then again. No performance, no gaggin' for effect, no hands flyin' around like she's tryin' to impress me. Just her mouth and her patience and that steady, devastatin' rhythm she's set.

I watch her. I gotta watch her. Her lashes low against her cheeks, her lips stretched pink around me, a little shine where her spit's runnin' down the shaft and catchin' on my hand in her hair.

My hips wanna move. I don't let 'em.

Her palms are braced on my thighs, fingers splayed wide, grippin' through the denim every time she takes me deep. Not pushin' me back. Holdin' on. Like she's ridin' somethin' and don't plan on gettin' thrown.

And I start picturin' it. Can't help it. Picturin' the end of this — my cock buried in her throat, that warm tight swallow workin' around me, her eyes waterin' up at me while I empty out every last drop. I can feel it already. Feel the way she'd take it. Feel the sound I'd make.

Shut up, Legion, just fuckin' shut up.

Because if I finish in her mouth I don't get the rest. And I want the rest.

I let her go another minute. Maybe two. I lose track. Her mouth is the best thing I've ever felt in my life and I ain't bein' dramatic about it — thirty-two years of women and whiskey and fights and not one single thing has ever felt like Savannah Ashby takin' her time on me in her own bedroom with the afternoon light comin' through the window behind her.

"Baby. Stop."

She don't stop. Just slows down, lookin' up at me like she knows she's got me one breath from breakin'.

I ease her off me with two fingers under her chin. Her mouth makes a soft wet sound when it leaves me and I near lose it right there. Her lips are swollen. Her chin is shinin'. Her tits are still out. She's lookin' up at me like I hung the fuckin' moon.

"Up."