"I know. Let go."
The orgasm hit hard and fast, pleasure crashing through me in waves. I might have screamed his name. Might have begged. I wasn't sure of anything except the way he kept working me through it, tongue and fingers relentless until I was shaking and oversensitive.
Finally, he pulled back. Wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Looked up at me with raw masculine satisfaction.
"Bedroom?" he asked, voice rough as gravel.
I could barely form words. "Down the hall."
He scooped me up like I weighed nothing and carried me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, felt the hard length of him pressing against me through his uniform pants, and bit his neck.
Gage groaned. "You're gonna kill me."
"Good."
He carried me to my bedroom and deposited me on the bed. I reached for him, but he caught my wrists again.
"My turn first," he said. “You deserve to feel good.”
Then he stripped off his coat and shirt, and I forgot how to breathe.
Broad shoulders. Defined chest. Abs that looked carved from stone. That military tattoo on his forearm I'd been admiring for months.
"You're staring," he said, but he was grinning.
"You're half-naked in my bedroom. I'm allowed to stare."
He unbuckled his belt, pushed his pants and boxers down, and—
Oh.
"Lacey?" Amusement colored his voice. "Eyes up here."
I dragged my gaze back to his face. "That's... you're..."
"Yeah." He moved onto the bed, caging me beneath him. "And you're gonna take all of it."
The promise in those words made me clench around nothing.
I reached between us, wrapped my hand around him, and Gage's hips jerked.
"Fuck," he hissed.
"My turn," I reminded him.
I pushed him onto his back before he could protest and settled between his thighs. Up close, he was even more impressive—thick and hard, already leaking at the tip.
I looked up at him through my lashes. "I'm gonna make you lose control."
"Please." The word came out strangled.
I took him into my mouth slowly, savoring the way his whole body went taut. The taste of him—salt and heat—made me moan around him.
"Jesus Christ." His hand fisted in my hair, not pulling, just holding on. "Lacey, that mouth—"
I took him deeper, using my tongue the way he'd used his, learning what made him curse and what made his thighs tense. My hand wrapped around what I couldn't fit, working in rhythm with my mouth. When I hollowed my cheeks and sucked hard, his hips lifted off the bed.
"Fuck, just like that," he groaned. "So good. Taking me so good."
