Shallow thrusts at first. Testing. Making sure she was okay.
“More,” she managed around me, the word muffled but clear.
Permission granted.
I fucked her mouth the way I’d fantasized. Controlled the tempo, the depth, the pressure. Watched her take it all, her eyesnever leaving mine, watering slightly from the effort but burning with satisfaction.
She was getting off on this. I could hear it in her muffled moans. Feel it in the way her fingers dug into my thighs. See it in the flush spreading across her cheeks.
One of her hands disappeared between her own legs, pressing against the seam of her jeans, and the sight nearly undid me.
“Are you touching yourself?” My voice came out rough. Wrecked.
She moaned in response, and I felt the vibration all the way to my spine.
“Fuck.” I tightened my grip on her hair. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I wasn’t going to last. Not like this. Not after years of nothing.
But when I looked at her, kneeling between my thighs, one hand on me and one hand on herself, so eager to give me this—I stopped fighting it.
“I’m close,” I ground out.
She nodded, just barely, and sucked harder. Silent permission.
I came with a groan that felt like it had been building for a decade. My hips jerked as I spilled into her throat, my fist tightening in her hair as wave after wave crashed through me. She took it all, swallowing around me, drawing out every last tremor until I was shaking.
When I finally released her, she didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, she cleaned me with slow, gentle attention, savoring until I was spent.
Then she looked up at me with those wide green eyes, flushed cheeks, swollen lips. “Was it good?”
Was it good?
Something fierce and primal roared to life in my chest.
I lunged for her. She let out a squeal as I hauled her off the floor, flipping her onto the long leather bench and pinning her beneath me.
“Let me show you,” I growled against her throat, “exactly how good you made me feel.”
50
HARPER
“How long of a drive is it to your place?” Knox asked, his voice still rough from what we’d just done.
“In this traffic? Maybe thirty minutes.”
His eyes darkened. “Perfect.”
He pressed me back against the leather seat, trailing his lips down the column of my throat. His fingers found the hem of my shirt and began inching it upward.
“That gives me ten minutes to kiss every inch of your body,” he murmured against my collarbone. “And twenty minutes to bury my tongue inside you and fuck you until you come on my face.”
Holy hell.
I swallowed hard, my pulse skittering beneath his lips. “You’d better shorten that timeline.”
He paused. Lifted his head.
