Hazel
Some magical voodoo makes my clothes disappear.
“Don’t stop.” I clutch at his shoulders as Luke flings my thin cotton boxers aside. He suckles my nipples as I paw at his zipper like an animal starving for what’s in his pants.
I am. God help me, I’m desperate to touch him. To feel him inside me this instant. I’m frantic and needy and dying to devour every inch of him.
“Slow down, babe.” Luke comes up for air, leaving my breasts tingling. “You in a rush?”
“Yes,” I pant, tugging his button fly open. “And don’t call me babe.”
With a devilish grin, he crawls down my body. “You can call me whatever you want.” A long, languid swirl of his tongue snatches the breath from my lungs. “Just make sure you scream my name when you come.”
“Cocky son of a—oh, God.” I clutch at the top of his head as his talented mouth takes charge of the throbbing heat between my thighs. I know I should protest that I’m sweaty and need time to shower.
But the instant his tongue sweeps that sensitive bud, and I forget my own name. “More. Oh, God.”
“That’s right.” He growls the words into the hollow of my thighs. “It’s me making you come. Me giving you what you need, Hazel.”
“Yes.” That feels insane. Not just the way he’s consuming me. It’s the gravel in his voice. The sting of stubble on my hipbone. The rustle of denim on carpet and the faint whiff of sawdust in his hair.
It’s also the slide of two fingers inside me. Gripping his hair, I cry out. “Oh fuck that feels good.”
“Say it.”
I’m too dizzy and mind-whacked to know what he’s asking. I can’t even form words as my thighs start to quiver. My sweaty palms slide to his shoulders, gripping bunched muscles that might be the only thing anchoring me on this planet.
Plush carpet cushions my back as I bow up beneath Luke’s skillful mouth. How is he so goddamn good at this?
“Hazel.” His magic tongue stills, and I cry out in agonized protest.
“Oh, please. Don’t stop now.” I’m pleading, I’m begging, desperate for release. “So close.”
“That’s right.” His eyes capture mine as the tip of his tongue skims my clit. It’s too much sensation, yet not quite enough. “I’ll get you there again and again, Hazel. As much as you can take.”
“Please.” I arch up beneath him, greedy for more of his mouth.
“Say it.”
“Luke.” Somehow I know what he’s asking. “Luke, please. Oh my God, Luke. I need you.”
His devilish grin says I’ve pleased him.
And now he’ll consent to please me.
“Good girl.”
Is it those words that do it, or the next skillful suck he delivers? A sharp burst of pleasure explodes behind my breastbone, blasting my core with bright shards of glass. I scream out his name, clutching his shoulders in a quivering grip. I’m tumbling, flying, coming apart in six-billion pulses of pleasure.
He brings me down gently, cradling my hips in those talented hands. He moves up my body, kissing a path from my hip to my navel. With heated breath skimming my breasts, he teases a nipple with his tongue. His eyes lock with mine, and an aftershock wracks my whole body.
“Let’s talk contraception.”
Talk? He expects me to form words? “Guh.”
Chuckling, he kisses his way to my mouth. “I’ll talk; you listen. There’s nothing in the world I’d love more than to slide inside you with nothing between us. Obviously, pregnancy isn’t a concern at this point.”
Somehow my mouth forms the shape of a sentence. “Don’t you have to get tested for things when you’re a sperm donor?”
