I squeal with laughter as he moves us down the hallway, surprising me further by spanking my arse, then rubbing soothing circles over it.
We make it to the end of the hallway when he pushes the door open, then slams it closed behind us. I hear the sound of a lock clicking into place, then slowly, I’m brought back down over Gage’s shoulder.
He makes sure my whole body rubs against his until my feet meet the ground again. He doesn’t say a word as he starts movingforward, ushering my body to step backward until I bump into a desk.
He hooks his hands in the crease where my arse meets the back of my thighs and sits me onto the hard surface.
“You want passion, Isabelle?” he asks, his voice deep and intense like a thunderstorm as he reaches over for something I can’t see. “You want to know what it’s like when someone wants you so bad, they need to touch you with the same urgency they need air? When they’re demanding of your thoughts, your time, your utter existence. You want to know what it’s like to be trapped in the hands of someone who wants to consume you?” He holds a bottle of whiskey in his hand, slowly unscrewing the lid and setting it on the desk. He brings the bottle to his lips and takes a swig.
Placing the bottle down, he steps into me, one hand behind my knee, dragging me to the edge while the other wraps around the side of my neck, long fingers digging into my hairline while his thumb pulls at my bottom lip.
I accept his guidance, and he leans into me, slowly spilling the liquor into my open mouth. It trickles down my throat and splashes over my lip. Before I have a chance to swallow it all down, Gage kisses me in a way that changes space and time.
His tongue tangles with mine, causing him to groan. He bites my lip, then licks away the bruising aftereffects. My hands land on his sides, feeling the rigid muscles beneath.
I tug at the soft material of his black T-shirt, pulling him even closer to me before I move it up. Gage leans back, ripping his mouth from mine and pulling it over his head, then falls back into me.
His arms wrap around my back so we’re pressed against each other, but it’s not enough.
“I want this off,” I say amongst kisses and start tugging at the suede string of my top.
With his mouth pressed against mine, both our hands fight to loosen the corset. Gage starts to get impatient and lets out a frustrated growl, when finally the strings fall free, and he pushes the thick straps off my shoulders. I’m not wearing a bra underneath, so my breasts spill free as soon as my top comes undone.
Gage leans back, taking me in, and his chest starts to heave up and down.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
I run my fingers along the V muscles that dive into his jeans, over each ridge of his six pack and up to his bulging pectoral muscles. My fingertips dance over his chest, where August’s name is scrawled on the right side, but there’s nothing on his left. It’s the only part of him that’s blank compared to the rest of his body.
“Lean back,” he whispers, interrupting my exploring. He picks up my hands where they rest over his chest and gently guides them behind me, so I can lean back slightly.
Picking up the whiskey bottle again, he tips some into his mouth. He pushes my hair behind my shoulders and runs his nose up my neck, inhaling deeply. I tip to the side, allowing him better access, only to have the cool trickle of liquid drip down my neck and run between the valley of my breasts.
I gasp and then groan as Gage starts to lick and kiss along my neck, following the trail of whiskey. As he moves further down my chest, I feel my stomach tighten, my legs tremble and my pussy throb.
He licks up my sternum, then pivots to bite my lip quickly before reaching for the whiskey again. This time, he hovers directly over my chest. I watch, hypnotised as gold liquid drips from his mouth and lands on top of one breast and over my peaked nipple. My head drops back with a groan that I feel even deeper when his mouth closes around my nipple.
His tongue swirls around me. He sucks and nibbles at the skin, and it feels like he’s leaving more than just marks on the surface.
My hips start to rock as I pant through the rampant onrush of pleasure. He repeats the act on the other side, and I feel myself slipping back to my elbows, wanting, no,needingto give in to the desire he conjures within me.
He stands up straight, yanking on the button of my jeans. I lift enough to let him pull the denim down my legs, then he tosses them behind him. I expect him to do the same to my underwear next, but instead, he puts his hand under the waistband and tears through the side.
“Hey!”
“I’ll buy you more. I’d prefer you just wear none, but I can buy you more if you’d like.”
Tingles pebble down my legs. “I’m curious how it might benefit me if I start wearing no underwear.”
A hand grips my chin. “As long as I’m the only one helping you benefit,” he says, with no room for negotiation, and he seals the promise with a kiss.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me”—he drops to his knees—“I missed dinner.”
His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls me forward, until I’m hovering over the edge of his desk, and then he sucks my clit into his mouth.
I throw my head back with a moan, desperately trying to keep myself upright as Gage feasts on my pussy.
He moans as his tongue runs up and down my opening. My legs are guided over his shoulders as he eagerly drowns in me, pulling me harder against his mouth. I can feel vibrations run through me every time he groans and grunts against my skin. The stubble across his jaw scratches against my inner thighs.
