Page 73 of Protecting Love

“Paris.”

“Yeah?”

“Zip it,” he said before his mouth landed on hers again. One knee hit the bed and he pushed her back so she was lying down.

She didn’t have much fight in her. She was ready to let him take over.

And when his mouth left hers and moved down her neck, her collarbone, then landed on a rose-colored nipple, she arched and told herself to just enjoy this.

To let her body take over and let all her worries fall away.

With the way his mouth was pulling her in. Was sucking. Was nipping. Was moving side to side.

It was going to be easy to do all of that.

Then her shorts were undone and pulled down with her underwear.

And his eyes, they were bright and moving over every exposed part of her body.

“You’re something,” he said.

“Are you going to zip it or get to work?” she asked.

He laughed. Laughed enough that it reached his eyes. The heat mixed in with the humor and turned the arousal dial up again.

Fletcher Wilcox was a box full of mystery. He was intense, but sweet. He was hot, but considerate.

And right now he was the man she wanted to screw her brains out.

He didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to.

He just slid down her body, spread her legs apart and put that masterful mouth of his right to work.

His tongue tasted every inch of her. From top to bottom, inside and out.

She was squirming on the bed. She was reaching for his head, holding his hair, trying to guide him where she wanted it the most.

He knew what she was doing and he wasn’t letting her have her way.

Not until he was ready.

And when he was, when he decided to send her over, he found just the right spot and launched her.

Had her back arching, her nails leaving marks, her inner muscles twitching and singing out hallelujah!

He held her pinned to the bed while he devoured her like he’d done his burger last night.

Then he lightly licked her a few more times. As if he had to get every ounce of what she’d give him.

But when he pushed off the bed and made no attempt to go further.

Well, then she was confused.

“What’s wrong?”

One eyebrow rose. “I didn’t exactly come prepared for this.”

“I thought you were a Boy Scout.”