He smirks, his fingers dipping under my shirt and pressing so hard into my skin that it nearly burns. “We satiate thisthingbetween us.”
“And you think that will help things how?” I ask, struggling to keep a clear mind. “Because I’m pretty sure we agreed when we weren’t alone, and I wasn’t on your lap, not knowing how the other person tastes is our best route to success.”
“Respectfully, I think we were wrong.” He leans so close that his mouth almost touches mine. The heat of his breath takes mine away. “Because how you taste is all I can fucking think about.”
I whimper as I sag into him. It takes everything I have not to grab his face and drag his mouth onto mine. But I don’t. Because somewhere in my almost thirty years of life, I’ve gathered some form of self-control.
Who knew?
“I leave in three weeks,” I say. “I guess giving in once can’t hurt.”
“Oh, sweetheart. If I give in once, there’s no way I’ll be able to keep my mouth off you.”
“Except when Kennedy is around?” I ask, almost panting.
He nods, lifting his hips against me.Easy, Chase, or I might come from this.
“Then I have one question, Mr. Marshall.”
“What’s that?”
“Why aren’t you on me already?” I ask with more confidence than I possess.
He bucks against me harder.Ooh.
“Ask me nicely.” He smirks. “I need to know exactly what you want.”
I lift on my knees so I’m kneeling over his lap. Holding his face in my hands, I grin. “Fuck me, Chase.”
His smile is sinful. “My pleasure.”
CHAPTER 19
Megan
“It better be my pleasure, too,”I say moments before his mouth crashes on top of mine.
I moan against his lips. He smiles against mine.
One hand goes to the back of my head, holding me against him. The other slides under my ass and rocks me back and forth over his dick.
A flurry of explosions rips through me, and I feel like I might actually combust.
His kisses aren’t frenzied. They’re slow.Deliberate. Each swipe of his tongue, every press of his lips, is intentional. It’s as if we have all night.
Because we do.
My fingers wind through his hair. My nails dig roughly along his scalp. He sucks in a hasty breath but then kisses me harder.
His hand cups my jaw, holding me to him when I try to pull back. His eyes open, staring into mine with an intensity that I feel pooling inside me until he gets his fill from my mouth.
Finally, he nips my bottom lip and lets me go.
I pull my head back, desperate for a breath of air. He kisses across my jawline and down my neck.
“We’re really doing this?” I ask, grinding my pussy against him. He lifts his hips, and I grind harder.
The contact is a double-edged sword—giving me the promise of the relief to come but keeping it out of reach.
