Everything about him is hotter than I imagined—the way the ink pulls across his skin, the strength in his arms, the way he moves.
I trace my fingers over the tattoo, letting it feel like part of me. His pants follow, the fabric pooling at his ankles, leaving him in his briefs. I glance down and see the outline of him, hard, straining, and I lick my lips without thinking.
“You can leave your heels on,” he says, eyes dark, when I bend to kick them off.
I smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, is that supposed to turn me on?”
“Definitely,” he murmurs, stepping closer, his hands gripping my hips. “God, I can’t wait to taste every inch of you.”
We kiss again, slow at first, then harder, hunger spilling between us. I press my body against him as he guides me toward the bed, and we tumble onto the sheets. He lands between my legs.
Ledger leans down, lips brushing mine for a heartbeat, then lower, hot and sure, pressing against my inner thighs. His hands roam over my waist, under my bra, cupping my breasts as he bends closer. I arch, letting him take all of me in.
He drags the hem of my panties down slowly and parts me with his fingers before his tongue slides across me. “Such a pretty pussy,” he says, and my knees clench instinctively. His fingers press against me, spreading me for him as he leans down, lips pressing wet, precise kisses across every curve.
I shiver, grinding back against him. Each kiss makes me hotter, wetter, desperate for more. I push slightly against his shoulders. “God, you’ve been thinking about this since the plane, haven’t you?”
“Every second,” he murmurs, and I let out a low moan. He circles my clit with his tongue while his fingers slip inside me, curling, pressing just right, and his mouth travels across my folds and even dips briefly to my ass, sending shivers up my spine.
I grip his shoulders, tugging him closer, hips rocking instinctively against him. My body pulses as it responds to every stroke of his tongue and press of his fingers.
He looks up at me, eyes dark, grin wicked. “You’re soaked,” he says, voice husky, sliding a hand down to tease my clit while his mouth moves lower again. “God, you taste amazing.”
I bite my lip and moan, letting him know just how much I need him. His hands stay on my breasts, kneading and pinching gently, while his tongue keeps me riding the edge.
His mouth travels, and he presses a kiss to my ass, tongue brushing over the sensitive skin there, then returns to my pussy, alternating between holes. I cry out as every swipe of his tongue and curl of his fingers sends shocks up my spine. He sucks, licks, presses, and I’m trembling, hips bucking, everything undone and slick with want.
I’ve never felt anything like this before. This was what Mason held from me—no, I won’t think about Mason at this moment. I’m a married woman, in bed with her husband. Gosh, it sounds ridiculous, but it’s true and it’s real.
Ledger kisses across my folds. I moan, gasping, nearly curling around him.
“God,” I whisper, chest rising and falling. He hums against me, answering with the pressure of his tongue, his fingers inside me, curling at just the right spots.
It’s overwhelming. I feel my release coil, and he doesn’t stop for a second. One smooth, deliberate stroke of his tongue, one finger curling deeper, and I shatter. My body trembles, legs quivering and pussy pulsing around him as I cry out.
I try to reach for him, to taste, to return the favor, but he lifts a finger to my lips.
“Tonight is all about you,” he murmurs. My hands drop, breath still catching, and I shiver at the authority in his tone.
He slides his hand down to his cock, stroking himself slowly. His breathing deepens, a low groan rumbling from his chest, and I watch, desperate and needy.
Then he presses himself to me, cock lined up at my entrance, and I feel the first inch slide in, stretching me perfectly.
He pauses, gives me a moment, then thrusts deeper, harder, and my moan erupts. His hands grip my hips, pulling me close and pounding me with a force that leaves me slick, trembling, alive.
I clutch the sheets and wrap my legs around him, trying to meet every stroke. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t hold back, every thrust measured and powerful, driving me higher.
He leans down, chest against mine, whispering low, “God, you feel so good.” His hands move over my waist, squeezing, adjusting, and keeping me perfectly positioned as he fucks me hard. I’m lost in him, in the rhythm, in the heat, every inch of me alive with desire.
He bends closer and whispers, “So fucking good.” He groans. “God, you feel amazing.”
I arch into him, my breath ragged, as I moan his name, every nerve on fire. My breasts press against his chest, nipples rubbing against him.
His fingers slide down, brushing over my clit and teasing as he pounds into me.
“Ledger,” I gasp. He tightens his grip on my waist, thrusting harder, deeper. The coil in my stomach snaps, spreading, pulling a guttural cry from my throat as my orgasm hits, waves rolling through me. I shake, moaning and gripping his shoulders as I ride the high.
I clamp my legs around him, tight, desperate, letting every pulse slam through me. Heat floods me, slick and sticky as his thrusts hit every nerve. My chest rises, falls, presses into his.
