Can't Fix Cupid

“Warren!”

His weight shifts off of me for a moment before returning several seconds later. “Are you done talking, darling?” he teases.

“Mm-hmm. Yep. Please proceed.”

He laughs, and then his tongue is fucking me so good that my toes curl and my hands fist into the sheets.

“The carpet matches the drapes,” he murmurs, running his finger over the short hair between my legs. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I like pink,” I sputter out.

He chuckles before licking me some more. “You taste so fucking sweet. Like cotton candy. My own sugary Valentine.”

“Warren…”

I want to get there. Up that peak that he introduced me to last night. I want it so badly that my entire body is already quivering with need.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promises me.

He spreads the lips of my pussy, blowing on my clit the same way he blew over my nipple, and I hiss in response. Before I can chastise him though, he plunges a finger inside of me, and then, something else presses against my clit, and it’s not his tongue.

My eyes fly open when I feel something hard and slightly cold press down on my needy nub, and then...it comes alive. Like Frankenstein.

Chapter 27

Trix

“What the fuck? What is...Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!”

I say the words over and over again as I look down, watching as Warren circles my clit with a slender red vibrator.

The thing starts to vibrate so hard against my clit, that I nearly lurch off the bed.

“Holy fuck me shoes,” I cry, my body unable to stop writhing. It’s like my vagina is in contact with a live wire, like I’m getting electrocuted with buzzing pleasure that’s almost too much.

Warren places his hand on my abdomen when my hips jolt upward again, keeping me grounded against the mattress.

Just as I’m about to get to that peak I’ve been hiking up, he takes the vibrator away and licks my clit again, sucking the sensitive, throbbing bundle of nerves right into his mouth at the same time that he plunges the vibrator inside of me.

Oh, shit.

Stars erupt behind my lids. I can’t talk. I can’t see. I can’t breathe.

Fuck, I can’t even remember my name.

Who am I? Are you there, Sev? It’s me, someone.

Warren moves again, replacing the vibrator with his fingers so that he can curl into my g-spot, and then those strong reverberations are against my clit again, and I’m gone. Finished. Fully baked. Put a vibrator in me, I’m done.

I shatter like a piece of glass—if said glass had a vibrator palpitating on it like a godsdamned magical hammer.

I scream his name. Or mine. Or someone else’s. Who really knows? Who cares?

My orgasm rolls from one to another, and then to another, because I guess my vagina decided to climb the stairs to that peak and then make it a damn triple decker.

I’m gonna die. I’m actually gonna die from a vibrator. “Death by too many orgasms” is gonna be etched into my tombstone for all to see.

I can’t even be mad. It would be an awesome way to go.