Heat shoots through me, every nerve buzzing like I’ve been struck by lightning. My hands shake—just a little—but I do what he says, dragging the cotton aside and parting myself for him with trembling fingers. The way he watches me do it. The weight of it. The approval in his eyes makes my skin feel too tight for my body.
He lowers his head, eyes drinking in the sight of me spread open for him, a reverent exhale ghosting across my heated flesh. My breath snags in anticipation. Then his mouth finds the sensitive flesh I've bared to him and all thought slips away.
His tongue traces a slow, torturous path over me. A primal groan rumbles against my core. The vibrations shoot straight through me. My fingers scramble desperately across the bar. Need something. Anything. To hold onto. I knock things over. Fuck. I should be thinking about how exposed I am. About how easy it would be for someone to walk in or catch a glimpse through the windows.
But then Hex makes eye contact with me as his tongue dips inside me.
Whatever reasoning I had left dissolves on the spot.
My breath shudders. I squeeze my thighs around him, but his firm hands grip my flesh, holding me open.
He presses a kiss to the inside of my left leg, smirking against my skin. “For the sake of time, and because you’resoresponsible and need to get back to work…” He hooks a finger under the thin strip of cotton I’m still holding open for him. “...you can leave these on this time. But next time I’ll have you completely bare.”
A sharp inhale is all I manage before he leans in. His tongue caresses me with a hunger that says this is what he's been starving for.
A whimper slips past my lips, head tipping back as sensation rips through me, pleasure curling, building. My hips jerk against him, my body seeking more, needing more.
“Oh, fuck—” The words barely make it past my lips before the velvet sin of his mouth does something wicked, something that bows my spine and sends my hands clawing at the bar again. I need to ground myself. Need to hold onto something. The only thing within reach is him.
I clutch his hair, fingers tightening as he groans against me, igniting every nerve ending. That wicked muscle moves relentlessly, working me open, unraveling me inch by inch.
He does it so well.
So. Damn. Well.
“This... definitely my favorite pairing,” he says, lips grazing my inner thigh before he dips back in.
Pleasure builds. Coils tighter. Tighter. Pressure crests higher until I teeter on the edge.
“Hex—” His name falls from my lips, half-moan, half-prayer.
His grip tightens around my quivering legs, fingers digging in hard enough I’ll feel it tomorrow. His mouth doesn't stop.Doesn’t relent. Tongue dragging maddening circles that have me gasping for air.
Then I feel it. His hand shifts. Fingers slide lower, wet with how ready I am.
The first one slips inside me. I gasp, hips lifting in eager response.
He lets me adjust to him, just a breath. Then the second finger follows, stretching me. My body tenses, then melts around the pressure. He thrusts them in that same ruthless rhythm—his mouth still sucking, stroking, teasing my clit. Building me up, pushing me higher.
And then—
He curls them.
Hits that spot.
The coil snaps. I shatter completely. Head flung back, a cry tears from my throat as the orgasm crashes through me—hot, blinding, breathless. I can’t stop the way I buck against his mouth. Can’t control the tremors that seize my thighs.
The sound I make is lost to the haze. I barely manage to hold myself up on the bar.
My fingers tangle in his hair. My hips twitch, overstimulated, as he licks me through it—that sinful tongue catching every last aftershock.
I can’t breathe. Can’t think.
Only feel.
It takes a moment—several—before I manage to pry my hands from his hair. My body still buzzes. Still trembles.
He pulls back, sliding his fingers out of me, lips shining, looking too pleased with himself.
