Hex hooks his thumbs into my panties and pulls them down in one smooth, practiced motion. Before I can say his name again, his tongue is on me—slow, thick strokes—then his mouth seals around my clit.
I cry out, fingers clutching the edge of the desk behind me. His fingers slide inside. One. Then two. Curling just right. Pleasure builds fast, hot, and impossible to outrun.
He shifts. Lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, opening me.
His mouth returns. Sucking. Licking. Biting just enough to make me whimper. I’m seconds away from falling apart when he pauses, lips brushing my skin. The rasp of stubble makes my breath hitch.
“You ready to fly?” he asks.
I nod, thinking it’s just a metaphor.
Then—still on his knees—heliftsme. In oneridiculous, glorious motion, he gathers both my legs and hooks them over his shoulders like a reverse piggyback.
I yelp, laughing, squirming as I scramble to adjust my balance. “Hex. Oh my God—”
Crossing the room with the ease of a man stronger than most. My legs tighten around his neck, thighs quaking from the weight of sensation already threatening to detonate.
He presses me to the wall, hands firm beneath my ass, mouth diving back between my legs like he never left.
Theangle.
The pressure.
I reach up, bracing my palms higher against the wall—higher than I’ve ever stretched—body trembling with need.
He flicks his tongue just right on my clit and I shatter. My orgasm crashes through me, violent and raw. I bite back a sob, legs locking tighter, fingers dragging down the wall.
When he finally lowers me to the ground, my knees buckle. I glance at my fingertips, stained from the walnut I used earlier. My eyes dart up at the wall and see the mark I left.
“Looks like that one earned itself commemoration,” I murmur, breathless.
Hex follows my gaze, eyes lingering on the streaks before meeting mine with a smug smile.
“Good,” he says, voice rough. “Now every time you walk past it, you’ll remember exactlywhogot you that high.”
“I’m just saying,” Demi drawls as I turn the wheel to round the corner toward the shop, “he dropped to his knees and there’s still no ring? Girl, slip a cock ring on that man, declare him your emotional support orgasm, and lock it the hell down.”
I choke on my iced coffee, nearly spilling it down my shirt. “It’s been less than two weeks.”
“Modern problems, modern proposals.”
“Can you not?”
She grins wickedly and wraps her lips around her straw. “I absolutelycannotnot. So? Have you committed full penetration yet? Was it everything I’ve built up in my head? Did he flip you over and smooth out your rough edges like one of your vintage cabinets?”
“Jesus, Demi.”
She shrugs unapologetically. “I’m just living vicariously through your orgasms, babe. I've been in a dry spell so long my vibrator’s begging for a vacation and a union rep.”
I laugh despite myself as I pull up to the curb, shifting the car into park. The sound of the locks snapping free in the doors loosens something in me; breath rushes out, and the tension slips from my spine one vertebrae at a time.
“I’m doing my best to take it slow,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt. “But every time I see him… the depravity that goes through my mind is concerning.”
Demi lets out a low whistle and snaps her fingers. “Lean into that!”
I pull the shop keys from my bag and sigh. “I mean, yeah, he’s hot. Obviously. And apparently murder does something to my sex drive I wasn’t prepared for.”
Demi snorts. “We all have our kinks.”
