Refusing to take his gaze off her dampening center, Sarge ran his tongue along the inside of Jasmine’s smooth thigh. Closer, closer, to the hottest sight he’d ever laid eyes on. Jasmine—his Jasmine—with her legs parted, that blue dress rucked up around her hips. There was a bullish rise in his sternum, smoking out to fill his insides. He wanted to rear up with a shout, cover her with his body, and fuse their mouths together. Wanted to dry-fuck her with his aching dick until she was soaked and then fuck her like the world was ending. It was painful to hold back, but after last night, he was determined to give her more. Not some quick-on-the-trigger moron who didn’t recognize the treasure laid out for his consumption. A treasure representing the curse he needed to break—and he couldn’t do that if he lost himself.
Since he’d caught her off guard, she was still attempting to be modest, elegant fingers twisting in the hem, inching it down, which only made him twice as anxious to get his mouth on her flesh, to watch that caution shatter into a thousand pieces.
“Stop trying to be a good girl, baby.” He parted her flesh with his middle finger, finding her wet enough to push inside with a satisfied noise. “We’re here to be bad.”
“Oh…that’s. Am-mazing.” Jasmine thighs writhed on either side of his wrist as he stroked in and out with his finger, breaking to tease her clit with the wetness. No, no…he wanted her legs spread. Wanted her with no other options or escape routes, save releasing against his lips and tongue and chin.
Sarge used his free hand to secure her right leg to the bed, shoving her other thigh open with his opposite elbow. “Watch my tongue.” He waited until she followed his instructions before dragging his stiffened tongue through the center of her *, ending at her clit and pushing down hard. Hard. Until her hips were bucking, moans filling his ears. “You don’t stay open so I can see every hot little inch of you, I won’t do that again. Don’t you want me to keep licking?”
“Si. Yes, yes.”
“I know you do.” Sarge trailed a series of kisses along her delicate flesh. “You want it now. And you want to remember it later, too, so you can touch all the places I ate you. You want to remember the bad things I did.”
The idea had come to Sarge out of nowhere—and it was entirely unlike him. But the uncontrollable impulse to immortalize the first time he brought her pleasure wouldn’t leave him alone. He needed her to have proof, a memory of him as the man who’d been anything but plutonic while between her legs.
He gave her hip a gentle slap, continuing to tease her * with gentle bites and kisses. “Get your phone. I want you to play this back later when you’re alone and my mouth and fingers aren’t here to handle your ache.”
Two frantic, sobbing breaths. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can.” He lapped once at her clit before lifting his head to lock gazes with passion-fogged brown eyes. “More than that, baby, you want to. You want to watch me do it all over later.”
“I don’t,” she gasped.
“Liar.” A quick scan of the room found her iPhone sitting on the bedside table. “Go on. You can reach it.” Sarge turned his head to run his open lips up the inside of her left inner thigh. “I’ll wait right here.”
Jasmine threw her head back with a frustrated whimper, then made a grab for the phone, fingers fumbling to open the camera application. Sarge smiled against her skin as she lifted the device. And then it was on. The phone dropped to her belly the first time his tongue circled her clit, but he growled until she propped it back up. A pounding began in his head, inflicted by her taste, the way her flesh clenched when he slipped his tongue inside. Tight little thing. He couldn’t get an adequate description in his head of what her taste reminded him of, so he lifted her ass in both hands, bringing her up to meet his mouth like a fucking meal.
Yeah, it turned him on knowing she’d be pressing play on these moments again later. He thought of her coming home from a long day of work and sagging back against the front door. Pulling out her phone and sliding her hand inside her jeans, legs slipping wide. He didn’t expect the spark of jealousy to flicker in his chest. Maybe he didn’t want her touching herself. It should be him.
It should always be him.
“Stop filming,” Sarge ground out. “I’ll do this for you any time you need it. You call me and I’ll come. My tongue belongs right here.”
“N-no. No.” Her stomach shuddered down, forming a sexy hollow. “This was your idea. And I want it…want to remember…oh.”