Perv (Filth #1) (10 page)

I install the CPU into what will be her computer. The RAM goes in next. I stall at mounting the brackets because she's padding around the apartment. I close my eyes to hear her better.

She lets out a soft laugh. She's in my living room, likely looking at my family photos spread around. Probably the one where I'm standing next to my mother, who's dressed like Scarlett O'Hara.

Three minutes later, she's pulling apart a croissant and leaning against the doorjamb of my office. Her hair is damp and her face is free of any makeup. Pillow creases crisscross on the right side of her face, but they don't mar her perfection. To my great disappointment, she's put her dress on.

“
Is that mine?” She curls her toes into the carpet and smiles at me.

“
After you pay for it,” I joke.

“
Because your mama taught you to pinch your pennies?”

“
Yup.” I take her in again, because it's Robyn. Her tattoo is on full display. I now know it's her only tat. The design is too intricate to be a drunken decision, and the ink looks too fresh to be more than three years old.

“
Why Hermes?”

“
What?”

“
Your tat.”

The light in her eyes fades. “He's seen as a guardian in some myths.”

There's more to the story. Some parts clearly make her unhappy. I want to know more. Everything. Anything she's willing to tell me, but not if it kills the mischievous glint in her eyes. That's not my problem as long as she's of sound mind and body. My problem is that she's not naked in my bed.

I snap off the anti-static wrist band and climb out of the chair. “Don't come in here with food. And hurry up and finish eating.”

She eats some more. “How long have you been waiting for me to wake up?”

“
Four hours.” I push her backward toward my room.

“
But you didn't wake me up.”

“
I wanted you rested.”

She turns around and lazily walks toward my room. Her dress is wrinkled, but it swishes with the sway of her hips. I put a hand to the small of her back in case she tries to slow down.

“
Are you going to at least try foreplay first?” She finishes the croissant.

I grab the hem of her dress and pull it over her head. She's laughing again and faces me. “No small talk?”

“
On the bed?” is my attempt. I don't wait for her answer but push her back since she's a foot from it.

Everything bounces. Everything. My dick stands up to celebrate. She crawls up the mattress, her laugh filling my room. I pause long enough to notice she's made my bed. She's so not normal. I don't know what happened to make her this way, but she's naked and on my bed, so I can ponder that later. I waste no time taking off my shirt and pants.

She says, “I was hoping for a strip tease.”

I jump her. I made her mouth mine the night before. I remind us both of that. She's all hands—caressing my face and my back. Next time I'll four-point tie her to my bed but...next time.

I close my hand on her throat and tug her bottom lip with my teeth. Her moan comes next, but her brows are slashed down. She's pissed at me for making her like what I do to her. I can live with her anger. Not sure if I can survive another second without burying myself inside her.

We'll both get over our hangups, I'm sure. Eventually she'll love it, beg for it, and I'll be balls deep. Relationship goals.

I give her my mouth to concentrate on. She can't be mad if she's trying to suck my tongue down her throat. I help because I'm a giver. I drag my tongue over the roof of her mouth, and her legs clamp around my waist.

See. Giver.

Soon she's rocking her pussy against me. My boxers are the only thing keeping me from losing hold. I break the kiss to nip at her chin, then trace her pulse beneath my mouth. I suck hard just to the left of that and her hips arch up. I stay there for a long while, tongue-kissing her sensitive spot.

She squirms and moans, and I love the feel of her nipples against my chest as she moves. They're soft but hard. Brushing against me. Thoughtless friction that makes my balls tight. My boxers have a damp spot from where she keeps grinding against me.

It's torment.

I fucking love it.

The torture gets better when I move to her breasts. Our first real meeting. I settle back on my haunches and brace myself on my hands. Double Ds. Her areolas sit between the bottom curve and top swell of her breasts. The left one is bigger. Perfection.

I'm halfway to where I want to be. Letting the thought skate across my mind makes my throat thick with hunger. Her pussy is on the lunch menu, and I'm being a good boy by eating my veggies first.

I palm her breasts to test the boundaries of what she likes. I start with a soft rasp of my fingertips, watching her face, her mouth. The moan comes when I scrape my nails over the swell and squeeze hard.

She likes a bit of pain.

I sink my teeth along the side of her boob to see if she likes that too. She grabs a fistful of my hair and pushes my head closer. I growl my approval and decorate her breasts with mouth marks. The bruises turn dark red, almost purple against her brown skin.

I slide to her torso with gentle, open mouth kisses. Her skin is buttery smooth. I lick, kiss, touch to my heart's content. She trembles beneath me, rocking her hips into me whenever I take a break from her breasts or stomach to kiss her. The way her fingernails dig into me as I settle between her legs—my cock so goddamn hard—I know she's on the edge.

But she wanted foreplay. She's going to get her wish.

“
Nate,” she pleads.

“
Not done yet,” I murmur along her chin. “There's still some skin I haven't licked.”

“
Don't stop, Nate.”

I edge back, tucking her knees up to my chest, my hands on her around her waist—an old stripper trick—then I flip her onto her stomach. Her surprised gasp transforms into a moan as I ball a hand in her hair, moving the soft strands out of the way, to lay a kiss on her nape. She wiggles her ass into me after I switch to teeth and tongue. I straddle her ass, bearing down with enough weight to take away her leverage. I make my way up and down her spine like that.

By the time I'm done with her in that position, waist up, there isn't an inch of skin that hasn't been under my mouth, tasted by my tongue, or caressed by my fingertips.

She's a low-lidded, moaning mess when I flip her back over. She'll never question me about foreplay again. I will lick her elbow in a way that will make her come. My dick hates me, but it always does. And I'm not done yet.

I draw my mouth back to hers. She whimpers in reply. I try not to smile but I'm an asshole. At least now we both know it.

“
Are you over foreplay?” I ask, in a reasonable tone. “Can I fuck you now?”

“
I hate you.”

I kiss the corner of her mouth and then laugh.

Her brows knit as she trembles. “I hate your smug face.”

I sink my teeth into her bottom lip, and she sort of flails at my forehead to push me away.

I release the plump flesh but stay close enough that when I talk my mouth will brush along hers. “Answer the question, Robyn.”

“
No. No more foreplay.”

I press a chaste kiss to her cheek and roll onto my back. I'll give her a minute to recoup. My cock is peeking out through the boxer's hole. I make promises to it.
Just wait your turn. I've waited for mine
.

I need my fix first. I need her taste living in the back of my throat. When I take a deep breath, her scent will be the only thing I smell. Her scent will be there because I had my nose pressed up against her clit. The way I need that is a sickness. I've never searched for a cure and I'm not going to now.

I'm a pervert, and I like me that way.

Somehow she finds the strength to climb onto my lap. Her curls are askew. Her mouth is swollen. There's a flush riding up from her torso to her cheeks. Her tits look like she got into a dangerous boob fight. I love the marks I gave her.

But I'm aching.

I shake my head. “Higher.”

She squeezes me with her thighs and her shiver works through me too. “I thought foreplay was over.”

I shake my head again. “It's never foreplay. It's endgame.”

Robyn draws a circle around my nipple. I grab her hand. Our gazes meet. I feel on edge, and I probably look it. Messy hair, dark eyes, taut jawline and my scar is an ugly white line along my cheek.

Tongue. Lip. She likes me on edge. “Is that what you call fucking?”

I drop her hand. “The way I do it, yes? But don't worry, I'm giving you my cock too.”

“
So what do you need, Nathan?”

I cup her ass, get a good grip and lift her off my cock and up until she can straddle my face. “Hands on the headboard.”

That move, right there, is why I continue to bench press insane weights.

She grabs hold, a giggle spilling out.
Robyn
giggles. Jesus. I scoot down so she's positioned over my shoulders. The heels of her feet touch beneath my arms. She's gripped the top rail with both arms and is staring down at me. The flush has deepened. I'm getting a full view of the curve of her breasts. Bite marks there, too. I clasp her thighs, glide my hands up until I can squeeze her ass cheeks—soft, firm, goddamn decadent. Her femininity surrounds me.

I inhale deeply. Robyn's scent is thick from the foreplay. A groan works its way out of my mouth before I can curtail the sound.

I focus.

If I've done my job, she'll taste like sex along her inner thighs. The foreplay wasn't just for her. I wanted her wet enough to drip. She has. I angle my mouth to begin there. I play clean up first—licking and sucking every bit of juice she smeared along the sensitive skin.

She perches lower, her back curved in an arch. Her outer lips get the same clean-up treatment, and it sounds like wet, messy work as I slurp her into my mouth.

“
Nathan,” she murmurs, and I can taste the subtle change to her cream.

But I take my time, ignoring those cues, waiting for the one that could make me come. It's not the moans or the trembling. Not the pissed off glare she gives me as I lick everything but her clit. Not even the way she fists my hair and tries to direct me.

The cue comes when her lips peel back on a frustrated growl and she drags her clit over my tongue. A soft rock at first, and then harder.

I grunt. There. I stiffen my tongue so she can rock her sweet spot where she needs it. Her head falls back in ecstasy. I land a hard blow on her ass to egg her on.
Yes. That. Ride my mouth.

“
Fuck,” she spits at me, but Whimpering Robyn is gone.
I Need This
Robyn is grinding back and forth.

I let her fuck herself into oblivion using my tongue as her new favorite sex toy. I know she's almost there when she grabs the headboard with her free hand and she seems to lose control of her hips. She's panting my name. The single syllable pounds into me. Finally she stills, a sob caught in her throat. I grab hold of her ass and help her finish with a few well-placed licks and sucks. Her thighs are wet from my mouth and her come. She's shaking from head to toe and leaning against the headboard. It's beautiful. I'm back on clean up as she continues to moan in jerky patterns.

I'm drowning in the taste of her, and my dick hurts so good. I reach down to release my cock from my boxers, because she's wet and so am I.

But this is my favorite part. I trail my tongue to her entrance and slide my way in. My hand and my tongue are both teasing in slow strokes. My tongue will never be my dick but I'm licking inside her, fucking her this way. She's arching into my mouth, into my face as though my tongue can grow more inches. The action is profane, tantalizing.

I close my eyes and die a little at the perfection of being able to lick deep inside her. To have her wild and unthinking. She's shuddering above me, and maybe this will be all she can take of my mouth.

I squeeze my cock's head—once, twice. I don't need much with her so close again, filling my mouth with her true flavor. With her scent so buried in my nostrils, I'm going to smell Robyn for days.

My cock strains, heats. Pulse. Pulse. I stroke and squeeze. Pulse. Stroke. I'm groaning against her pussy lips as come spills on my hand and stomach.

“
Nate.
Nate
.”

“
Mmmm?”

“
I hate you. Don't stop.”

I reward her with slow open mouth sucks. Faster and a little tongue. She cries uncle after she comes from that. She dismounts from my face in a hazy flop. I'm in too deep to laugh at her reaction this time.

I'm up, stripping out of my boxers. I wipe up any come—hers and mine—that remains. I'm hard again already, and the condom I dig out of my nightstand goes on easy.

The brows-up expression on her face asks me,
And dick too?

I'm hell on women. I know that, but Robyn shifts to the middle of the mattress, telling me in our silent language to bring it on. There's heat in her gaze that promises retribution for everything I've done to her in my bed. Every time I've made her come or scream.

There's not going to be a wedding when we're done with each other. There will be gravestones. She's spreading her legs for me, crooking her finger, as she bites the side of her mouth. I cannot wait to die.

I climb back onto the bed. I take what's mine, and she moans into my mouth as I kiss her. I press the tip of my cock into her. So good. So fucking wet. I bite her mouth and I might have growled at her. She digs her nails into my back and she's definitely whimpering again.