Her eyes look up at mine, they stay there. Still.
Choosing.
Her hands, previously clenched into fists, slide down her legs. A small gesture, but enough to let me know she won't stop me.
Christ.
Every fiber of my body tenses, as if it has finally received the signal it was waiting for.
I get off the chair and kneel on the floor, between her legs. I look up at her.
She's staring at me. Her lips are parted.
“Tell me no,” I whisper. “One word is all it takes.”
But that word doesn’t come.
Instead, her gaze arrives—direct, full, determined.
I slide my fingertips under the hem of her dress and go straight to her center.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
She's not wearing underwear. I could die right here and now, but the only thing holding me back is the compelling, forbidden desire to make Sloane Heart lose control.
“You are fucking wet, Angel. You’re a liar, you were waiting for this.” I move my finger on her clit, torturing her.
“I. Hate. You.” She hisses through gritted teeth.
“Oh yeah? You’ll hate me even more when we’re done. You’ll think about me the whole time I’m gone, you won’t be able to help it.” I smile and slip a finger inside her wet slit.
I love torturing her; I love feeling her so ready for me.
“Shut your mouth, Becker.” She glares at me but can’t hold back a moan when I slide in a second finger.
“No, I think I can use it in a better way.”
I lean down and put my head between her legs. Definitely yes, I can use it in better ways.
My favorite? On her beautiful, wet pussy.
I take a first lick, and her taste is exactly as I imagined: sweet as honey, irresistible as the worst sin.
Sloane gasps, and I grip her ass with my hands, pushing her closer to me and enjoying my feast.
I hear her groan with her mouth closed. She’s still trying to hold back.
Defiant. Little. Brat.
I lick again and suck. Her legs tremble as she strains to stay still.
I continue with my movements, getting more and more intense. I know she wants me more; I know she wants to clamp her legs over my head to push me deeper. And I also know she doesn't want to admit it, she doesn't want to let me win.
But I’m enjoying the best honey I’ve ever tasted, so I’ve already won.
Her moans turn into gasps. I meet her gaze without taking my mouth off her pussy.
Her cheeks are flushed, her lips parted, an expression of ecstasy.
