He slipped two digits over her pussy, finding her as wet as she’d ever been. His fingers widened into a V, opening her up to him. “Don’t let anyone hear you.”
His rough, agile tongue rasped over her pussy in a long lick. Whatever thoughts and concerns she had in her brain vaporized into mist as he settled in to feast on her cunt, his tongue fucking into her. She’d been eaten out before, but never like this. He wasn’t an expert, but he was so damn enthusiastic he could be forgiven minor technical errors.
Of course, she wasn’t averse to helping him correct his form. She tangled one hand in his hair, tugging him away from her pussy. He snarled at her, an animalistic noise, like a dog denied a treat. “My clit,” she gasped. “Lick it. Suck it.”
He obeyed instantly, two fingers plunging inside to replace his tongue while he licked and sucked and toyed with her clit. She had to swallow her cry when he shifted and inadvertently rasped his beard over her sensitive flesh. He paused, as if gauging her reaction, and did it again. And again, directing that roughness right over her hard clit.
A fast learner. God bless him.
His motions grew less refined as he became more aroused, somehow turning her on more than the most choreographed cunnilingus. He groaned, long and low, and the vibration against her cunt tipped her over the ledge, her leg wrapping around his back, a silent scream emerging from her throat. He kept his fingers tight inside her, filling her while his lips delivered soft kisses over her labia.
Her chest was working like she’d run a marathon, her limbs loose and ready to sink into the carpet. Usually sex revved her up, brought all her senses to laser sharpness, but right now all she wanted to do was curl up and take a nap.
Correction: all she wanted to do was curl up next to Jacob’s big body, take a nap, and have him wake her up with his more-than-talented tongue in the morning.
Her lips tilted up, and she let out an airy chuckle. She felt light enough to float away, something strange and large expanding within her chest. “My God,” she said, unable to think of anything else to say. “You could make a fortune off your tongue.”
At her words, his scratchy face rose from where it rested on her thigh, and even without looking at him, she could pinpoint with sickening dread the second he came to his senses.
Closing her eyes didn’t help. It couldn’t stop him. Each gesture of withdrawal—his fingers pulling out of her, his body heat leaving hers—shattered something inside her.
The lightness vanished, a cold weight taking its place. She counted to ten before she opened her eyes, not cowardly enough to hide away. He had moved a solid foot away, his body language hunched over and unwelcoming.
Her legs were still spread lewdly open. For the sake of principle, she took her time closing them, but didn’t bother to shove her skirt down. When she rose to balance herself on her elbows, her ruined shirt gaped over her breasts.
He looked up from his contemplation of the rug, his gaze flying over her exposed body. She wanted to cover up. Which was exactly why she didn’t.
Thankfully, she had braced herself, so she managed not to reel from the horror clearly written all over him. “My God,” he echoed.
Jacob scrubbed his hand over his mouth, before pulling it away and staring down at it as if he’d been singed.
She smirked. Her juices were all over his face. She hoped they set him on fire. She hoped she was imprinted on him forever.
“This shouldn’t have… This can’t happen again.”
You didn’t deserve to have this happen.Not a muscle twitched in her face. She made sure of it. “You started it,” she reminded him. Mild. Uninterested. Like he hadn’t just blown her mind.
He raked his hands through his hair and launched to his feet. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know… I have no idea what I was thinking.”
“Probably not with your brain.” She was proud of herself.Just get through this. Get rid of him.“Don’t worry,” she said, her tone as dry as she could make it. “I won’t take this little incident as a sign you like me or anything.”
The look of anguish he gave her cut her to the quick. This was that painful for him? Really? “It’s not you—” he started to say, his vocal cords rough.
“Shut up.” God, she couldn’t, wouldn’t sit here and listen to him tell her that inane, blatantly false platitude. Of course it was her. It was always her. “Just. Shut. Up.”
“I’m sorry. It can’t…It won’t happen again. Please, just…forget it.” He backed away as he spoke, looking everywhere but directly at her. His hand groped behind him, and he found the door handle. “Goodbye.”
The door shut behind his hasty exit. Akira stared at the door, aware she needed to rise, clean up, change into the spare clothes she kept in the office.
But all she could do was sit there, in the wreckage of her garments, her defenses stripped, simultaneously satisfied and hungry for more. Hungry for him. Even when he made it perfectly clear how disgusting he found her.
Underneath the frozen layer of calm she had adopted as a stopgap measure to keep him from guessing her true emotions, a small, hot kernel of rage bloomed.
Chapter Six
He should have stayed home.
One of the joys of Jacob’s career—other than wearing sweatpants to work—was that he rarely needed to interact with humans unless it was absolutely required. Parties and socializing could be kept to a minimum.
