In the aftermath of her twin sister's tragic death, Reagan Sinclair finds herself in a never-ending battle against paralyzing panic attacks and drowning in grief. Desperate to just survive each day, Reagan's world is turned upside down when Paris un...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
PARIS
WHEN I WAKE UP, there's a slim thigh wrapped around my hip, a mass of thick curly hair spread out across my pillow, and a warm body pressed snugly against mine. I sigh, pulling her closer to me and moving her tangled hair out of her face, so I can press my lips to her forehead. She forgot to put her scarf on when she fell asleep last night, and she looked so peaceful, I didn't have the heart to wake her up and put it on for her. Her eyes flutter open at the press of my kiss, and she smiles as she wakes, stretching out over me.
“Morning,”
“Good morning, love. How'd you sleep?” I ask, grabbing her leg and crossing it over my body.
“Amazing,”
“Mhm, you brushed your teeth, took a shower, threw on one of my shirts and then passed out,” she rests her chin on my chest and looks up at me with a goofy smile on her face that makes me want to flip her on her back and taste if of her lips.
“Yeah. It was a good day, wasn't it?”
“It was,”
“Your sister is nice. And Gracie is the cutest,”
“I'm glad you like them,” I say, sitting up and bringing her with me, and then taking her mouth like I'm craving to. She straddles my hips and moans into my mouth, and I'm hard in seconds, breaking away from the kiss when she starts rocking her hips, dragging her little pussy on my hardness. “I believe it's time for my breakfast, Princess,” I say, flipping us over so she lands on her back. Her laughter rings out in the room, and she brushes tangled curls out of her face. There's sunlight filtering through the curtains, and it’s casting a warm glow on her body, highlighting the sparkle in her eyes. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of setting my eyes on. I grab the back of my shirt near my neck and pull it off. Settling my face between her legs and grinning when I find her bare. What a delicious start to my day.
“Look at you, princess, already weeping for me,” I take her hand and place it on my head, encouraging her to pull and tug on my hair as much as she wants before I dip my head and have my fucking breakfast. Her hips lift off the bed at the first pass of my tongue, and I grab onto her legs, pressing her back down onto the mattress. I've learned her body well over the past two weeks. I know exactly which buttons to push and which spots to hit with my tongue, and I play her like a finely tuned instrument. Listening to her muffled cries of pleasure grow louder. And when she arches her back and makes a broken keening sound deep in her throat, I know that she's right there on the edge. I latch onto her clit that's swollen and begging for some attention and curl two fingers inside her, watching her unravel with my name on her lips.
REAGAN
PARIS MAKES ME COME twice more and doesn't pull away until I tug at his hair and beg him to stop. And when I do get him to lift his head, he crawls up my body and attacks my mouth, making me moan at the taste of myself on his tongue. “Send my compliments to the chef for a delicious breakfast. Although if I'm honest, it tasted more like dessert,” he says with a stupid grin as he pulls away. I laugh despite the burn on my face, playfully hitting at his chest.
