Ice Thug

Capitolo Sedici

"Wakey, wakey, Principessa," sultry baritones woo me from my sleep. Honestly, his voice makes me want to sleep some more.

"Go away," I mumble, but in reality, I want him to stay and say things to me. Maybe not "Wakey, wakey..." but even that would sound pleasing.

I hear his exhale before the breeze reaches me. He's still right above me. I wish his tongue would follow and lick my skin, just like he did a particular place yesterday.

Mamma mia! I feel heat and bubbles in my abdomen just thinking about yester-night.

It was everything I had expected and more.

A lot more.

Not one reference had I come across as to how a man's tongue would feel between my legs, but for ladies arching their backs and screaming to the highest heavens, begging Dio to accept them into the bliss that their lover was driving them.

I experienced it. Thrice!

Trey made me come with his tongue three freaking times!

Before I slept, I could barely keep my eyes open. I was so spent; one more orgasm, and I'm sure I would've passed out. Luckily, here I am, alive and grumpy.

He eats me out and dares disturb my sleep?

Tch.

"Well, our clothes are being laundered, so I suppose we can afford a little time for you to warm up to the daylight," the bed dips beside me, and I feel his presence closer than ever.

"Huh?" I mumble. "Everything, including my under..." I'm a little ashamed to complete the question.

"Yup. Yours and mine. Don't worry. Hotels are professional. The worst you'd get is a sly look, but if you're a shameless sluts like me, it's easy to look past." He chuckles. "How are you?"

I don't know how to answer the question. Besides, my mind is still stuck on Trey, the hotel staff, and my wet underwear. All my clothes were taken off in the shower, so I'm assuming the hotel staff received them from there, or worse...he did.

There's nothing wrong. It just embarrasses me.

"I'm fine." I blush when I finally come to.

He reaches out to tuck a stray strand of my hair behind my ears. His braids are also blocking his face, and I wish my embarrassment would let me do the same to him. I don't, and instead, enjoy the shielded view of his face.

"You're really pretty; anyone ever told you that?" he muses.

I scoff at that statement, knowing it's not particularly accurate. "Asides from my Dad and Bobby, who are just patronizing, no, thank you for joining them."

"I'm serious, Nova," he scoots closer to me. Apart from his hands on my face, the only part of us touching is our feet, which is only for a brief moment.

I'm glad. I wouldn't want to be overtaken by mindless lust at the break of dawn. I probably smell like a skunk from the overnight sleep and my morning breath, but he hasn't seemed to mind so far.

"I have never seen you in makeup...or make any attempt to...enhance your looks to appeal to any man, but still, I look at you and go...' damn!'" he chuckles. "And before you blame it on my... what's the word...uhh..."

"Promiscuous nature." I help him out.

"Ah, Bené. Before you blame that, you'd better know I have a high metric for judging pretty ladies." He smirks a little.

"Well, what is your metric, then?" I ask, genuinely curious. I thought he fucked anything that moved in a skirt and had a hole, both of which can be mutually exclusive. Then again, he could say all these things to woo me. One can never be sure.