He grabs my throat, growling his release. “Don’t you dare fucking swallow,” he demands, ripping away. Immediately, I miss his girth, and his warmth.
He pulls my hair, forcing me to look at him. Face flushed, forehead sweaty, he taps my chin. My fingers haven’t stopped moving inside my pants. “Show me.”
My mouth parts, his cum sitting on my tongue, musk flavor soaking in. He preens like I’ve handed him a diamond from the Crown Jewels.
“Such a good fucking slut,” he praises, and my body freezes, chest panting. I’m so close to another orgasm, his words pushing me higher. “Swallow.” I do so, greedily, but it doesn’t end the building ache between my thighs.
He sees it. Like every time, he knows what I need before I do. He swipes the papers off the coroner’s desk, as he tosses me down kneeling before me. Ripping my pants away, he holds my legs wide, his eyes glued to my pussy. Those deep blue eyes are black with hunger and I groan, fingers still playing. “That’s it, Collins. Keep playing with yourself.”
My head falls back, fingers moving quicker. With his view on me, I’m on stage again and my pleasure rockets higher. But it’s not enough. I need him.
“Hayes. Please. I need?—”
“Are you asking for me?” He leans so close, I can feel his breath on my skin. “Are you begging for me?” His teeth rake along my inner thigh and I jolt.
Panting, I nod.
“Words. I want words.”
Consent. He wants consent. Because he’s never had it before.
God, that’s such a turn-on. I grow wetter, knowing I’m soaking the desk and he can see it.
“Please.Pleasetouch me.”
His control breaks and he surges forward, tongue diving deep as I groan loudly. He forces my fingers away, hands wrapping around my thighs to pull me close. His lips soothe my aching, damp flesh, teeth scratching against my clit. Everything builds quickly, body tight until I’m shouting his name like a prayer, riding his face as I orgasm loudly.
Falling back, he grabs my face, pressing our lips together. I taste my release on his tongue and he tastes his on mine, as if we’re meant to always have a piece of the other deep inside ourselves.
He pulls away and I freeze. My body hums from release but my heart stutters.
Holy shit.
This isn’t just a crush or post orgasmic high. This is more.
“Better?” he asks, and I find it difficult to breathe.
I don’t just like Hayes. Like is too simple—too easy for what I feel.I’m falling in love with him.
“Viper?” His brows lower. “If that wasn’t okay?—”
“No, no,” I interrupt, grabbing his hand. “It was exactly what I needed,” I soothe.
Outside, I’m relaxed and calm. Inside, I’m a frenzied mess.
I’m falling in love with my fake fiancé.
“Good.” He stands, helping me off the desk, grabbing my discarded pants. His cock is already starting to make another appearance and I bite my lip.
“You have rounds to finish and I’d rather you not get kicked out because my dick game was too good to ignore.”
Rolling my eyes, I slap him, sliding the pants back on. “You’re horrible.
“But right.” He holds up my coat, letting me slide my arms into it while I try to fan the heat from my cheeks. That’s a losing battle. I turn toward the door, mind elsewhere. I should be worried about my medical career—I’ve been away for too long that someone is going to notice—but all I can think about is this part of my soul that yearns for Hayes.
Sex is one thing. But what I feel for Hayes goes deeper than that. A protectiveness, a need—the safety. He gave me back my air and with him, my mind is quiet.
Shit. I really am falling for him.
