Page 67 of Scandal


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She moans into my mouth, her hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer.

The towel is trapped between us, barely hanging on, and I can feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric.

Can feel her nipples pressed against my chest.

Can feel every curve and dip and hollow of her body aligned with mine.

"Fuck the covers," I growl against her lips. "Fuck waiting. Fuck being professional."

"Finally." She nips at my bottom lip, her fingers already working at the hem of my shirt. "Took you long enough."

I yank the shirt over my head and toss it somewhere behind me.

Don't care where it lands.

Don't care about anything except getting closer to her, getting more of her, getting everything she'll give me.

The towel falls.

And there she is.

Bare and beautiful andmine.

I take a moment just to look at her.

To memorize the sight of her naked body in the harsh bathroom light—no shadows to hide in, no darkness to soften the edges.

Just her.

All of her.

The full curves of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips.

The thatch of dark blonde curls between her thighs.

The way her chest heaves with each breath, her skin flushed pink with want.

"You're staring," she whispers.

"I'm memorizing." I drag my gaze back up to her face. "I want to remember exactly how you look right now. Before I ruin you."

Her breath catches. "Promise?"

In answer, I drop to my knees.

She gasps as I grip her thighs, spreading them apart, making room for myself between her legs.

Her hands fly to my shoulders, steadying herself as I press my mouth to her inner thigh andbite. "RJ?—"

"Shh." I soothe the sting with my tongue, then move higher. "I've been thinking about this since Dublin. About getting my mouth on you. About making you come on my tongue." I look up at her, holding her gaze as I press a kiss to her hip bone. "About hearing you scream my name."

"Then stop talking and—oh."

I lick a long, slow stripe through her folds, and the sound she makes goes straight to my cock.

She's already wet—soaking, dripping—and the taste of her is better than anything I've imagined.

Sweet and musky andher.