Page 81 of Playboy’s Purgatory

The pleasure.

The fall.

He pulls his fingers free and plunges his tongue inside me. The sound of it is obscene. He grunts and growls which pushes me even closer to the edge.

I feel it, creeping along the edge, finding purchase in every touch and swipe of his tongue. Right there.

Closer.

Almost.

My eyes roll back in my head, and I swear he’s trying to find every single bit of my slick wetness, not wanting to miss a drop. He collects it on his tongue, scooping, rolling, questing.

Jettson snarls, the sound reverberating through me and knocking something loose.

When he fills me with three fingers and my walls stretch around him, his teeth scrape against my clit and I go spiraling. My breathing stalls in my lungs and my hips jerk as my leg gives out. He’s right there to make sure I don’t fall.

His shoulders push me against the wall, holding me in place and forcing me to ride out every twitch of my muscles. I suck in a sharp, ragged breath which has my head spinning and my lungs thanking me as the burning subsides.

A grunt laced with pride and pleasure comes from the back of his throat as he laps at me. His touch gentles and he pulls his fingers out of me slowly, licking up every bit of arousal I leave behind.

My eyes snap open as I look down, my knuckles pale even in the dim light. I release my grip slowly, my touch gentling.

I run my fingers through his soft, dark hair and smooth it back. His brown eyes look up, and I see a sense of satisfaction there which surprises me.

He didn’t even get off.

As he stands up slowly, his hands steady me. I’m grateful for it because my legs feel weak.

The reality of where we are slowly starts to filter in and I gasp while covering my mouth. “Was I really quiet?” I whisper-hiss the question as terror and horror fill me.

One side of Jettsons mouth tips up in a cocky as fuck grin. “Quiet enough,” he assures me before pulling my hand away from my mouth.

When he kisses me, I can taste myself on his tongue. My hands grip his shoulders and twist in the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

“Go on up and get some sleep, Cupcake,” he whispers the words against my lips, his voice rough, before pulling back.

I look down and then back up, my voice turning coy, “What about you?”

The chuckle that comes out of him is self-deprecating. “I’m just fine.” He winks, “I got off in my jeans.”

He doesn’t even look ashamed while my mouth falls open. When he steps back, I grip the handrail. I look back when he bends down and picks my panties up off the floor.

Our gazes lock while he tucks them into his pocket. “Mine now,” his tone leaves no room for argument.

It’s just as well, with the way my body is still buzzing, and my mind is pleasantly floating, I don’t think I could come up with one.

He slips out just as I open the door to the apartment and hear the lock engaging behind him.

I can’t help but smile as I crawl into bed. Having a biker in my life is a new experience, one I’m enjoying.

CHAPTER 20

PLAYBOY

I’m sitting at the desk in my office when the door opens. My head snaps up because I’m not expecting anyone. The irritation that started to fill me dies instantly.

Because Lara is standing in my doorway.