“You wrote a definition of the Mendoza line. You’re such a fucking dork.”
I closed my eyes and tried not to think about all the blackmail he had on me. The chair creaked and I arched my back when warm wet lips closed down around my nipple. “Yes.Finally.”
“I’m going to test you over your ridiculous cheat sheet,” he said between sucking and biting down on my exposed breasts. “Now, Fiona, what average is used to describe the Mendoza line?”
He dragged his tongue from my left to right breast, flicking the pointed tip and pausing. “Answer correctly, I’ll continue moving down. Answer wrong, I leave.”
“Two hundred, thirty-five,” I moaned and lifted my back up, connecting my nipples to his mouth. “Please.”
“Needy girl. I love it,” he growled and cupped my breasts, squeezing and pulling the sensitive skin. Nipple play hadn’t been a thing for me until the combination of his scruff and mouth. The hair rubbed against the skin, the rough feeling enhancing the pleasure. “I could taste you every day.”
“I could let you,” I replied with a raspy voice. I squirmed, trying to spread my legs for him, but he clicked his tongue. “Ask me another question.”
“Not yet. Your body is gorgeous. I want to taste you a little longer.”
Fuck.That was smooth.I remained speechless as he took his time licking up the center of my chest, trailing on my collarbones and the soft spot right below my ear. I shivered. I fisted his hair and dragged his mouth to mine.Fire. Heat. Tenderness.
His tongue slipped into me with the ease of a lover, but ignited me inside out. I forgot about our rules, our short-term situation and the walls I fought to keep up. He cupped the back of my head, breaking the kiss for a second, and gazed down at me with the softest expression I’d ever seen on him. It was like the ground fell beneath me, and I almost stumbled.
“You kiss like it’s your last breath. I fucking love it.”
I grinned, bringing my fingers to the button of his jeans. “Life’s short. Let’s continue to enjoy the moment, shall we?”
He nodded and within seconds had me over his shoulder and I pointed him to my room. He tossed me on the bed and, after a quick strip-down, our naked bodies were pressed together. “I had more questions for you. You cheated.”
“Slip inside me and you can ask me anything you want.”
“God, I love your sassy mouth.” He reached over to the side table and had the condom on in record time. I liked an overachiever.
I moaned, his cock filling and stretching me in the best way. “You feel so good, Gid.”
He grunted, picking up my hips as he pounded into me. I held on to my sheets, their flimsy fabric not enough support. I closed my eyes, enjoying the pleasure rippling through me, but Gideon growled at me. “Keep your eyes open. I want to watch them as you come.”
I blinked a couple of times and wrapped my legs around him, giving him access to my clit. He used his free hand and combined the thrusting with the right pressure on my swollen nub, and tingles began all over my body. They spread up and down my spine, the need for release so damn close. “Faster, Gideon. I need you.”
“Fuck, yeah,” he replied and kept his gaze on me. It was intense—his strong jaw clenched with passion and he continued to stretch my walls to new bounds. I swore he could see right through me, through my bullshit and terror. He pinned me down with his honey stare and I couldn’t stop his name coming from my lips. “Gideon!”
“Say my name again.”
And I did. I screamed his name as an orgasm unlike anything I had ever experienced rocked through me. My eyes watered when wave after wave of pleasure consumed me. Gideon held on to me the entire time, his muscles tightening. I arched my hips, allowing him to go deeper, and he quickened his pace. His gaze stayed on me, and when he said my name, spilling himself inside me, my throat closed up.
I must need water.
“Fucking hell, Fiona. My ears are ringing right now.” He collapsed on the bed next to me, somehow managing to slip his arm under me. He cradled me, my head on the spot right between his neck and shoulder. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d cuddled after sex. Panic began to rise in my throat, the need to run or make a joke overpowering. But he grabbed one of my boobs and gave it a squeeze, de-escalating the moment in his own way. “Best boobs ever.”
I laughed and rolled onto my front, my hair hanging all over my face. I moved my hand to brush it out of the way, but he beat me to it. He gently brought his fingers to my face, pushing the loose strands behind my ear. I gulped, the entire lower half of my stomach mimicking a rollercoaster ride. “You have great hands. I’m pretty positive I could say best hands ever.”
“I like a challenge, babe. I’ll earn the title.” He smiled at me, his expression soft, and warm tingles began in my chest. “Now, what does the expression ‘a can of corn’ mean?”
“Back to the document, huh? I thought the best sex ever would be enough to distract you,” I replied and fought a smile. His happy, goofy mood was hard to not like.
“Excuse me, did you just say the best sex ever?” His voice rose.
“No. I said that for your benefit, not mine,” I lied, dragging my teeth over my bottom lip. “And, it’s when a pop fly is so easy, it resembles someone dropping a can of corn from the top shelf. Duh,” I replied in an octave a little too high. He didn’t laugh, though. He positioned himself over me again, his eyes all sorts of intense. I gulped.
“Not the best sex ever? I’d say it’s pretty fucking fantastic. Do I need to use more tongue? Do you want me to bend you over the kitchen table instead? What’s it gunna take to get that title, because in my book, you’re the top, Barbie.”
Words were too hard to form. His gaze darted to my lips, then to my eyes and back. His cheeky grin was too sweet, too flirtatious and too goddamn cute. I couldn’t come up with a single comeback and he gave me a titty twister. “I call bullshit. You’re never speechless. Now, I’ll put clothes on so I don’t distract you. Get your project done. I’ll help you if I can.”
