My Ex Hired Me to Ruin Her Sister's Wedding novel · Chapter 3 of 24
Chapter 3: Ruin Me
Jo kneels at the vanity and takes Priya with her mouth; Priya asks to be ruined.
She was waiting for me on the vanity.
Priya sat on the edge of the marble top at midnight, in a white robe, with her bare feet hooked on the stool.
The lamp was off, and the moon lit the long mirror behind her.
I had driven forty minutes telling myself I would only talk.
I shut the door, and I turned the lock myself.
"You came," Priya said.
"You told me to."
"You could have said no."
"I tried," I said. "In the car. For about thirty miles."
She laughed, low and nervous, and untied the robe.
It fell open and slid off her shoulders onto the glass.
She was naked under it.
Her skin was brown and soft in the moonlight, with a faint pale line where a bra strap pressed every day.
Her breasts were full, her belly gently round, and her thighs were wide enough that my mouth went dry.
"I thought about this all day," she said. "At lunch with my mother. At the florist."
"What did you think?"
"What your mouth would feel like."
I crossed the floor.
I put my hands on her knees and opened them, slowly, and she let me.
Between her thighs she was glossy and pink, and dark curls were damp at the edge.
"You're already wet."
"I've been wet since the shop," she said. "It's embarrassing."
"It's the best thing I've ever seen."
She blushed, all the way down her chest.
I went down on my knees on the cold boards.
The marble top put her at exactly the height of my mouth, and I looked up at her along the length of her body.
She looked back at me with her lips parted.
"Has anyone ever done this to you?" I asked.
"Dylan doesn't."
"Doesn't what?"
"Go down." Her cheeks flamed again. "He says it's not hygienic."
I stared at her.
"Okay," I said, as evenly as I could.
"Okay?"
"Then I get to be first."
I kissed the inside of her left knee.
I kissed the inside of her thigh, a little higher, and then higher again, until she was trembling.
She smelled like soap, salt and something sweeter underneath.
I breathed her in.
"Jo, please."
"Please what?"
"Touch me."
"I am touching you."
"Not there." Her hands were in my hair now, tugging. "Please. Use your mouth."
I put my tongue flat against her and licked up, slow, from the bottom to the top.
She cried out so loudly that the sound bounced off the beams.
Her heels dug into my back.
She tasted warm and sharp, and she was so slippery I could have drowned.
"Quiet," I said against her.
"I can't."
"Then I'll stop."
"Don't you dare."
I smiled into her thigh and went back in.
I used the point of my tongue on her clit in tight circles, and then I closed my lips around it and sucked.
Priya's whole body arched off the vanity.
Her hand slapped over her mouth to muffle the noise.
I slid two fingers inside her while I sucked, and I curled them against the front wall, the way she had loved the night before.
She went rigid.
Her inner muscles pulsed around my knuckles, tight and rhythmic, and she was whimpering into her palm.
I looked up.
In the mirror behind her I could see the whole picture, the arch of her back, the shine on her thighs, and my own dark head working between her legs.
I had never in my life been so turned on.
My jeans were soaked, and I had not even touched myself.
"Look," I said, lifting my mouth. "Look in the mirror."
She turned her head.
I watched her see it, the bride in her own bridal suite with a woman kneeling between her legs.
Her mouth fell open, and a shudder ran through her.
"Oh my God."
"That's you," I said. "That's what you look like when you want something."
"I look filthy."
"You look perfect."
I went back down, and I gave her everything.
I licked her in long flat strokes, then fast with the tip, then slow again, and I felt her getting closer.
Her thighs began to shake against my ears.
Her heels drummed on the wood, and her free hand clutched at the edge of the mirror.
"I'm close."
"I know."
"Don't stop. Please, Jo, don't."
"I'm not stopping."
She tasted better the closer she got, and I pushed my fingers deeper and sucked her clit hard.
She came with a high broken cry that she bit off into her wrist.
Her pussy clenched around my fingers, over and over, and a hot gush of wetness ran down into my palm.
I kept going, softly, through all of it, until she was limp and breathless and pushing me away.
"Too much," she gasped. "Too much, I can't, I"
I kissed her thigh and sat back on my heels.
My chin was wet, and I wiped it with the back of my hand.
Priya looked down at me with her hair wild and her eyes glazed, and her chest rising and falling.
"I thought it would be like Dylan," she whispered. "Quick. Over."
"And?"
"I think I died."
I laughed, and she laughed too, helplessly, and slid off the vanity into my lap.
We ended up on the floor in a heap, with her robe under us and my mouth in her hair.
She was warm and boneless, and I held her.
I kept my arm around her waist and my cheek against her head.
"I want more," she said, into my collar. "I want it every way."
"You'll get it."
"Do it to me properly. All of it." She lifted her face. "Ruin me."
My whole body clenched at the words.
"Say that again."
"Ruin me, Jo." Her voice was steady, and her eyes were wet. "I have been good my entire life."
I tipped her chin up and kissed her slowly, tasting myself on her lips.
"I'll ruin you," I said. "But you don't get to hide from it."
"I won't."
Then she went still against me.
She looked past my shoulder at the dress in its white bag, a pale shape in the dark.
"It's thirteen days," she said, in a smaller voice.
I did not ask what she meant.
I held her tighter, and neither of us said another word.
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