Page 20 of The Trouble with Flings

When I finally ease my efforts, brushing my lips lightly over hers and whispering, “Good girl,” a breathy sound rushes from her lungs, like I’ve said the most devastating thing she’s ever heard. For her, maybe I have.

That’s the thing about praise. Not everyone knows what to do with it. But Jennifer Stone, who takes on the whole world every day without asking for a single thing in return, who deflects compliments like incoming fire and keeps score without letting anyone see the effort it costs her, surrenders to it beautifully. That’s how I know she’s been starving for it without knowing that’s what the hunger was.

I intend to make sure she’s well fed tonight.

“You’re extraordinary,” I say, and her eyes close just long enough to tell me she’s in this, willingly handing me the reins. But when those hazel eyes open, the look she gives me isn’t surrender. It’s something deeper, darker. An invitation extended by a woman who knows exactly how dangerous she can be. She may have handed me the reins for the moment, but Jennifer Stone is still very much in control, and that is the pinnacle of perfection. The rarest kind of beauty I’ve ever seen.

“Now you’re going to show me how much you want my cock.” Desire coils tight in my chest as I lead her into the bedroom. “Take that pretty dress off and get on your knees.”

She brazenly holds my gaze as she strips off her clothes without a hint of unease.

“What a stunning sight you are,” I say as she steps out of her panties. Fuck me. She’s a glorious sight, full breasts, womanly hips, and shaved bare for my feasting. She boldly watches me unzip my slacks and take out my heavy cock, giving it a few tight strokes.

Her eyes flame as she sinks to her knees, reaching for it.

“That’s my eager girl,” I say as she wraps those slender fingers around my dick and leans forward. She slicks her tongue over the broad head before taking me deep into her hot, willing mouth. “Fuck.” I push my fingers into her hair as she strokes and sucks, pleasure gleaming in her eyes, and rock my hips.

Her eyes flame, spurring me on. She’s fucking hot. This is exactly as I remember it. Her eagerness, the feel of her mouth, and that pleasure-filled gleam in her eyes. Jesus. How many times have I come thinking about this exact moment? Jennifer Stone on her knees, taking pleasure in sucking me off. Sheer perfection.

“That’s it.” I tighten my hold on her hair, quickening our pace. “You missed my cock, didn’t you, baby?”

She hums around it, the vibration sending flames licking up my body. She doesn’t hold back, working me faster and tighter, taking me deeper, like she’d been waiting months to get her hands and mouth on me. I pump my hips faster, greedily fucking her mouth.

“So damn perfect,” I grit out, and her eyes widen with appreciation. I fucking love the way she craves my praise. “That’s my magnificent girl.” Her mouth is hot, her grip is tight, and she’s driving me out of my damn mind one perfect stroke and deep suck at a time. “Look how sexy you are, with your tits bouncing, begging for my mouth on them.”

She moans hungrily, sending heat searing down my spine.

“Spread your knees. Let me see your pussy.” I struggle against the need to come as her knees slide open wider, giving me a clear view of her slickness. She reaches down to touch herself. “Don’t,” I command, and her hand stills, her eyes narrowing. “I want you so damn needy, you beg me to fuck you.”

Pleasure heightens in her eyes, and just when I think she can’t make this any better, she grabs my balls with one hand, my hip with the other, and pulls me in deeper. “Fuuck.” She does it again and again, until the need to come pounds through me. “I’m going to come down your throat,” I growl, fisting my hands tighter in her hair. “And you’re going to swallow every fucking drop for me.”

She works me faster, her arousal dripping down her pussy, her eyes begging me to follow through. With the next thrust, “Fuck, wild girl—” roars out as my release spills down her throat. She pulls me tighter against her, her fingernails digging into my hips, holding me there until the last of it drips out of me. Then keeps me there through the last aftershock.

This woman is the most dangerous kind of perfection. She could take me to my knees, and I’d go willingly.

I pull out of her mouth and lift her to her feet, gently rubbing her jaw. “You’re magnificent.” Drinking in the emotions in her eyes that she’ll never admit to and holding back my own, I lower my lips to hers and kiss her breathless.

“On the bed, sweetheart. Time to let me worship your body.”

Jennifer

I sink into the pillows, a ripple of triumph moving through me at the unraveled look in Fitz’s eyes. He slips off his shoes, regaining that polished composure he wears so well, and moves to the foot of the bed, visually devouring me. His every move is controlled and deliberate, and I am too riddled with desire to be either of those things.

He’s still dressed. It strikes me that he chose this imbalance, and I let him. Me, the woman who doesn’t let anyone take control, handed it to him eagerly. Even more unfathomable is that there is no place I’d rather be than right here. The part of me that always keeps tabs on these things isn’t telling me to take charge.

It almost feels luxurious to set aside that control. The mix of terrifying and thrilling emotions coursing through me heightens my anticipation as Fitz comes down over me. His shirt scrapes against my nipples, igniting sparks beneath my skin, and he’s looking at me like I really am magnificent. Like I’m the only woman he wants to be looking at, and he’s in no hurry at all.

I don’t know what to do with a man who’s not in a hurry. I don’t know what to do with any of this.

As that discomfort sets in, his lips brush lightly over mine, his weight settling around me, and he says, “You did beautifully,” brushing his thumb along my cheek. “Now relax and let me take care of you.”

His praise washes over me like permission to stop thinking, soothing me with promises of something much more enticing.

He gently lifts my head, tucking a second pillow beneath it. “I want your eyes on me. I want you to see who’s making you feel better than you ever have.”

God, his confidence is as compelling as his touch. “That’s setting the bar pretty high.”

“You haven’t felt high yet.” He begins kissing his way down my body, every feathery touch of his lips sending tantalizing shivers of heat through me. “You’re so soft,” he whispers between kisses. “Utterly perfect and exquisitely feminine.”