“I don’t know…like ten years.”
My jaw drops. I don’t mean for it to happen, but I can’t control it. Bittern is a handsome guy. Surely, it’s been less than a decade since he got laid.
“Oh,” I say. “That’s fine. We can go slow.”
He takes a breath, like he’s going to speak, then doesn’t.
“Um…how old are you?” I ask.
“Thirty-one,” he says. “I’ve been kinda fucking busy for a while. This is my first year in a while that I’ve felt ready to get back into dating.”
“I know,” I say hurriedly. “I know about the accident. It’s fine.”
He cocks his head, lids lowered over dark eyes. “Is it though?”
It takes me a second to read him, and then it clicks, and my stomach sinks. He’s afraid. He thinks I won’t want him if I know too much about his situation and his family. I move closer and touch his chest. His eyes flick up then down. Gently, I press him into the hallway wall and take his hand, guiding it between my legs. His lips part…and his pupils blow when I slip his fingers beneath my panties.
“I don’t care what you do,” I breathe. “You can come in five seconds. Just make sure I get there too.”
Bam—his eyes flick up and lock on mine, like he’s ready for the challenge. He’s hungry, I see it in a sizzling flash across his face. Then, he’s on his knees, gathering up my skirt, his fist tangling around my panties and pulling them down my thighs. We laugh, breathlessly, as he pulls them free. Then, he’s got me shoved up against the opposite wall, his blond head dipping under my skirt.
My spine lifts off the wall. If he wasn’t twice my size and musclebound, his hands holding me upright, I’d be a puddle on the floor.
I pant, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall, counting down the moments as his tongue sends me spinning into another dimension. It takes me seventeen seconds to decide this man is going to be my husband. We can figure everything else out later—where we’re gonna live, who’s working what job. There is no way in hell I’m letting someone else get eaten out by him for the rest of their lives. Fuck no, I’m keeping this man on tap forever. It doesn’t hurt that he’s handsome and kind either.
His hand slides down, gripping my ass. I arch one hip to give him space.
“Right there,” I gasp. “Don’t stop—fuck, right there.”
His tongue curls around the side of my clit. My body crumbles, shaking into his hands as pleasure moves in a burning wave from my chest to my hips. My fingers grip his hair, pushing him down as it ebbs and flows. Spots pop in my vision.
This is what it was always supposed to feel like.
Easy, effortless.
I come to a trembling finish, but he doesn’t lift his head. No, he keeps going. My knees give out completely, and he lifts up to lay me on the hallway floor. My thighs fall open, and he drops his head down to push his tongue inside. God, he wants it just as much as I do. Maybe that’s what makes it so effortless, like riding the tide that leads right to him, to my hands digging into his hair while my mind plays a hundred different scenarios of staying with him forever.
We go on like this for what feels like hours, his head between my legs and my hands in his hair while I come harder than I’ve ever come in my life.
Holding on, letting go, spinning out of control.
All at once. In so many different ways.
It gets to the point that I have to pry him off me. He lifts his head, dazed. I push myself up on my elbows.
“Where have you been?” I whisper.
The corner of his mouth jerks in a slow smile. “Guess I’ve just been waiting on pussy this good.”
I bite my lip, giggling for the first time in…a long time. Did Shane ever make me giggle? Probably not. He wasn’t all that funny. I have a feeling that deep down, under Bittern’s quiet, he’s got a lot he’s hiding.
“You want to take this to the bedroom?” I whisper.
“What?” he drawls. “You don’t like the bare ass floor?”
“Not on my bare ass, no.”
He laughs, dipping his head to nip my thigh. “Let’s go.”
