“I’d lick you slow. Up and down, coming so close to where you need it that it torments you.”
His hand slipped under my dress hem, rising higher to my inner thigh.
“Only after you beg do I finally take that perfect bundle of nerves into my mouth and swirl it with my tongue.” His voice was pure sin. “I wonder … what do you taste like, Sunshine?”
His fingertips played with the edge of my panties, and the pulsing between my legs became unbearable.
“And how would you take me?” I managed, the wicked part of my mind wondering aloud.
“The way I’ve imagined for years,” he growled. “Slow at first. Sinking into you inch by delicious inch.”
The way he said it implied there was a lot to take.
The throbbing between my legs intensified. Heated. And begged for mercy.
I gasped when his finger traced over the thin fabric covering my sex.
“Soaked for me, Sunshine,” he whispered approvingly against my ear.
“Yes,” was all I could manage, but my hips rocked forward even more, pressing more desperately against his touch.
“If you don’t want me to touch your bare flesh, tell me now,” he warned.
He was giving me an out, I realized. One last chance to back away before he touched me without barriers.
In response, I rocked my hips into him. I couldn’t tell him no. Hell, I wanted him so badly that if I had my way, we’d abandon this dinner party and ravage each other all night.
The strange thing was, this wasn’t just sexual either. I felt a connection with Axel that I hadn’t felt before. I had always assumed that Chicago’s biggest playboy would just take what he wanted and go. But that wasn’t Axel at all. With me, he understood me, understood what I needed, understood what I wanted, even more than I did.
“No man has ever made you come?” he whispered. Possessive. Angry. Determined.
I shook my head.
The fresh hunger in his eyes made me even hotter. His finger slipped past the fabric to stroke my bare flesh.
I bit my lip to swallow my groan as he worked me with expert precision, pressing two fingers against my most sensitive spot and beginning to swirl.
Oh my God.He knew exactly what he was doing. The pressure, the motion. He knew my body better than I did.
And the thing was, unlike any other time in my life, withhim, I relaxed into his touch.
“Dakota,” he growled in my ear, “I’m going to bury my fingers in you.” Holy hell. “And you’re going to pretend it’s me sinking deep inside you.”
Good Lord.
He circled that bundle of nerves while kissing my neck, my collarbone, then worked his mouth back to mine.
Pulling back slightly, he locked eyes with me and slid two fingers deep inside, watching my head fall back against the wall, my mouth slack. His lips curved up as he pulled out slightly, then pushed deeper. My body stretched and wrapped around him, trembling in ways I’d never experienced.
“You’re perfect, Sunshine,” he whispered. “So tight.”
He moved his fingers with skill, curling them to hit something inside me that made my hips jerk, and his mouth hitched with knowing satisfaction.
“Never felt that before, have you?”
I swallowed, shaking my head.
Then he added his thumb to that external bundle of nerves, swirling as he pumped his fingers inside me. Heat coiled in my belly as the sensation built.
