“Are you wet for me, sunshine?”
“I’ve been wet for you a lot over the years.”
Fuck. I yanked her to me until she was flush to my chest and smothering my dick between us. My lips crashed onto hers and I dove into the warm depths of her mouth with my tongue.
She was there with me, clutching at my shoulders.
Summer Kerrigan was in my arms. She was half naked and on my lap.
Warning bells went off in my head, but I didn’t fucking care. I’d convinced myself I didn’t want her, and I might’ve succeeded had I not seen her in her wedding dress and wished she was saying her vows to me.
A low rumble left my chest and I tightened my embrace. I stroked my tongue along hers, tasting the sweet orange juice she must’ve had before her shower.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be touching her. But why did it feel so right?
She wiggled on my lap, needy. Her tongue slid against mine, warm, sweet, and demanding. The rest of my towel’s restraint broke. Her wet heat was against me, inciting a primal need to take her.
Yet I’d been thinking about her so long, I had to take my time. I had to savor her. As much as I wanted to revel in a woman who acted like she couldn’t get enoughof me—me, not the pleasure I could give—I couldn’t let her go without returning the same.
I flattened my palms on her smooth thighs. Electricity ran between us, making my erection throb harder than ever.
She was so close.Just fucking take her.
I wouldn’t. I brushed the fingers of one hand toward her center. So fucking warm and wet. Desire pounded my insides, storming between my brain and my dick. I was filled with nothing but stark need to see her get off. To feel her come on me—like she was mine.
Like she’d always been mine.
I slipped a finger through her soaked seam. She whimpered into my mouth and ground down on my hand.
I had to break the kiss. “Fuck.”
She met my gaze, her lips puffy from mine, and rotated her hips on my hand. “Jonah?”
“Christ, you’re close.”
“Jonah,” she whined again and I knew this woman hadn’t been treated like she deserved—inside or outside the bedroom.
The old Jonah from twenty minutes ago might disagree, but there was no lying to myself when her pussy was in my hand and her climax was mine. My name on her lips was so damn right.
“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?”
She nodded, her eyes glazed, her hips jerking erratically. “Yes.”
“This orgasm is mine.”
“Yes.”
I slid a finger through her folds and pushed inside. Tight, hot heaven greeted me. Her walls rippled aroundmy digit, the convulsions growing stronger as I circled her clit with my thumb.
I had to taste her, but I didn’t dare break the spell. This thing between us had been simmering for too long, right or wrong.
Then she reached between us and gripped my shaft.
A groan punched out of me. I was getting jerked off, and it wasn’t my hand doing the work.
I drank in her wanton features. The way her eyelids fluttered when I timed my circles with my finger thrusts. The delicate column her throat made when she tipped her head back and moaned.
I hadn’t even seen her breasts. I hadn’t seen the pretty pink of her pussy. The feel of her was enough.
