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“Fucking. Hell.”
His hands shake as he grabs my shorts and pulls them down. This is my chance to yell at him, Enough. He keeps pulling them, and something in me prevents me from telling him it’s enough—an orb of pure desire expanding until I’m overflowing with it and can’t think about anything else. It’s Luke freaking Hart, staring with so much more fieriness than he ever did on the cover of Forbes.
“Can you take it on your bare ass? Goddamn, you’re curvy and so perfect.”
He massages his hands over my skin, moving close to my pussy. That’s when I realize he’s pulled down my underwear, too, tangled around my ankles.
“I think so,” I murmur.
“Good girl.”
He spanks me again.
“The way your ass ripples for me.”
“You like it?” I murmur.
He smirks. “What do you think?”
“Some men might not.”
“Never talk to me about other men.”
His palm slaps against my ass, the stinging hotter, fiercer.
“Do you hear me?” his voice rises. “Never. I don’t want to hear any fucking talk about other men from you.”
I gasp. “Okay, okay.”
“Fuck.”
“What are you doing?” I ask when he falls to his knees.
It’s absurd, given the circumstances, but I find myself thinking of another time he might fall to his knees, a ring in his hand, looking up at me with a smile I can’t even imagine on his face right now. He’s more beast, less gentleman.
“You’re going to come for me,” he snaps. “Get your pussy nice and wet, and then…”
This is another chance to end this. I can stop it before it spirals, but my lust is already out of control. I shiver as he kisses my thigh, his hands never leaving my ass, pushing my cheeks together, sinking his fingers in. It’s like he’s been waiting for this as long as I have, but that’s impossible.
He’s been waiting a day, but the desire hints at years. Each kiss is a tingling preview, my sex burning with his closeness. He slides his hand down from my ass, smoothing it toward my hole at the same time as he kisses higher. If I didn’t need my hands to hold myself up, I’d pinch myself right now.
When he reaches my sex with his mouth, a loop plays in my mind.
This is my crush. This is my crush. This is… Again and again, the thought hits me like another spank.
He groans when he pushes his mouth against my pussy, licking from my hole to my clit. I’ve experienced nothing like this, the total pleasure of it seizing me in strong hands, my heart pounding as I try to maintain control and not think about what comes after. He spins me around, moaning deeply as he pulls me toward him.
“Stick your ass into my face,” he growls, his breath warmer against my entrance, lips, and clit.
I arch my back, pushing against him.
“L-like this?”
“That’s it,” he groans deeply. “Fuck, you even smell good.”
He moves one hand to my ass cheek, spanking me, but I hardly feel this one. All I feel is his tongue stroking up and down my pussy, and him focusing on my clit.
He flicks it fast, and the feeling is so much more intense than when I touch myself thinking about him. It’s like he’s holding a naked flame against my pleasure spot, but there’s no pain, only the fire, the heat, the boiling fact of what we’re doing.
He moves quicker and quicker, and with each tongue stroke, pleasure wars with nerves. A small voice inside me warns that this will end poorly and that he will somehow hate me once we’re done. Hate me and leave.
A guilty feeling touches me, a wish that this was a programming project and nothing more. I despise the thought because the pleasure is moving through me quicker and spicier, my hips beginning to shudder in response to his attention.
Listening to his groans is almost the best part, deep growls like he’s been starving himself for days, waiting to feast on me.
He slips his hand farther around my thigh, rubbing my clit with his fingers now.
His tongue moves to my entrance, circling it quickly and spreading more ecstasy.
I’ve had orgasms thinking about this man so many times, hand guiltily sliding between my legs, hoping Axel or Lily don’t hear me, and before that, at the orphanage, praying nobody catches me.
I turn and stare down at his powerful body, every inch focused on me. He rubs my ass, smoothing across it, tongue flickering like an obsessed man. My moans sound as if they belong to somebody else. No way am I the one filling this fancy apartment with the moans of a release.
It’s coming. Crashing into me—not waves, a tsunami. I almost scream when the orgasm finally erupts, my sex aching as I push back against him, digging my hands into the kitchen island to thrust more insistently.
