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height like this, me on the bed, him on his knees. Devan taps my forehead. “Stop that.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll get right on that. Just, poof, damage gone.” I snap my fingers.

His expression goes forbidding and then he clasps my throat, pushing me down onto the bed. I don’t fight it. Why would I? I’ve only played with kink, with dominance and submission, here and there in the past, but I have enough experience to know that I crave the letting go as much as I fear it. The last Domme I played with—the one with all the strap-ons—made me come half a dozen times and somehow that resulted in me sobbing my heart out. She handled it gracefully and took care of me in the aftermath, but that was one experience that deterred me from going deeper into the kink community.

I have no desire to be seen that thoroughly.

With Devan, it’s different. He’s experienced all my rough edges already. How could he miss them when he’s been present for the worst nights of my life?

“That’s always been your problem, birthday girl.” He drags his hand down the center of my body, stopping just below the waistband of my garter belt. “You think too damn hard. Knock it off.”

“Wow.” At least I manage to sound sarcastic instead of weepy. “Look at that; you’ve solved my over-thinking just like you solved my damage. You should charge for your services, Devan. You’d make a killing off poor little rich girls with their sad little broken hearts.”

He doesn’t answer with words. He simply shoves my legs wide and delivers a stinging slap to my pussy. I shriek and arch up. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Am I interrupting the pity party?” He raises his brows. “Sorry.”

“I hate you,” I grit out. The slap surprised me more than it hurt, but that doesn’t mean I’m about to admit as much. “You’re such a dick.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll have to punish you again instead of licking this pretty pussy the way we both want. Wouldn’t that be a crying shame?”

I open my mouth to snap back, but manage to close it without responding. Is pushing back really worth denying myself the pleasure of Devan’s tongue? Of course not.

He massages my thighs lightly, still holding them wide. “You said you have your own fantasies about how tonight plays out. Tell me.”

“You want me to tell you…while you’re going down on me?”

“Smart girl. Yes, that’s exactly what I want.”

If he’s half as good with his tongue as he is with his fingers, I’m going to have one hell of a time concentrating. “What if now’s not a good time? Maybe I want to tell you later.”

“You stop, I stop.”

I lick my lips. “Okay.” I can do this. Surely I can do this.

But as Devan leans down and nuzzles my pussy through my panties, I’m suddenly not so sure. I watch him for a long moment, committing this scene to memory. I know for a fact I’ll be rewinding this night over and over again in the future.

He drags his tongue over the sheer lace and pauses. “Hazel.” The warning in his tone is enough to loosen my words.

I drop back onto the mattress and whimper as he swipes his tongue over me again. His beard rubs against the bare skin at the top of my thighs above my stockings, and the roughness combined with the slickness of his mouth is enough to have my vibrating. “I want to recreate my birthdays.”

Devan pauses. “Explain.”

“Don’t stop.”

His only response is to dip his tongue beneath the side of my panties. The man is a fucking tease, and I fully intend to return the favor the first chance I get. I moan a little, but I’m not about to do anything to make him stop. “This thing—” I drag in a breath as he spreads me and sucks on my clit through my panties. “This chemistry has been here for years. I want…” Best to just get it out. After what we’ve already said to each other already, surely nothing is truly forbidden? “I want to recreate my birthdays and do now what I wanted to do then,” I say in a rush.

He lifts his head and looks at me. “What did you want to do then, Hazel?”

My skin feels like it’s on fire, but I haven’t come this far to back out now. “I don’t care if you were technically still my guardian, at least of the trust fund. I wanted you to take over for me in the backseat last year. I wanted you to do exactly what you described earlier—rip off my bikini at nineteen and make me come all over your mouth.” I can’t read the look on his face, so I press on. “I wanted you to follow through on the heat in your eyes when you saw me in that schoolgirl costume at twenty. The threesome at twenty-one. At twenty-two—”

“No.”

I blink. “Excuse me.”

“Not twenty-two. You didn’t need a good fucking that birthday. You just needed to be taken care of, which is exactly what I did.”

I want to argue for the sake of arguing, but he’s right. There is absolutely nothing sexy about that birthday. “Okay, fine, not twenty-two.”

Devan gives me a long look. “Keep going.”

“Tell me you didn’t want to fuck that body paint right off me at twenty-three.”

His gaze goes heated. “I would have to be a monster to touch you while I still had control of your trust fund.” He hooks his fingers around my panties and draws them slowly down my legs. “You might have been an adult, but I was technically still your guardian.”

“Are you saying you didn’t want to fuck me?” As soon as he maneuvers my panties past my heels, I let my legs fall wide. “You didn’t think about how good my pussy would feel around your cock? Not even once?” There’s something about a garter belt, thigh-highs, and no panties that make me so fucking

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