Chapter Seventeen
BEA
The door automatically clicks open, and it’s game on. I’m not sure if Kit reaches for me or I for him, but in an instant, my back is against the wall, all grasping fingers and frantic tongues. My hands shake with desperation and need as I try to unbutton his shirt when I notice in the dim light my dress is on the floor, and his fingers have already loosened the clasp of my bra.
‘Nice.’ His gaze turns my nipples to hard points before he even has his hands on me. Bra discarded to the floor; he holds my breast full in his hand, his thumbs brushing the tips, backwards and forwards, as between my legs begins to throb.
‘I want to eat your pussy first,’ he murmurs. ‘I need that honey all over my tongue.’ His eyes are dark and his face earnest, and as I open my mouth to agree, he flicks the tip of his tongue across both nipples. ‘You up for that, little bee?’
I nod, desperate. I have so much pent-up need that if we were bargaining right now, I’d give him anything to have him down on his knees.
‘Good.’ His mouth pulls away, and he pulls his shirt over his head. His skin is a pale golden colour, his chest broad and firm. And in a delightful surprise, the skin of his right arm, from shoulder almost to wrist, is covered in the swirl of black ink. I want to touch him—want my hand on the skin of his warm flesh, want to trail my fingers over the intricate patterns of his tattoos, when he spins me around. Somehow, my hands end up splayed flat on the desk next to me, my bottom jutting out.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen an arse as white as yours.’ He slaps me once, and I jump at the contact because I don’t think I’ve ever been spanked, never mind told my ass is too white. ‘I bet you look fantastic in a bikini. I’d like to see you in one. All that honeyed skin and the tiny bits of fabric covering the bits that are all mine.Mine.’
I don’t have a chance to dwell on the meaning of his phrasing as his hand hits me again. My responding whimper is such a sound that it leaves no doubt of what I’m feeling.
‘It’s such a tiny wee word—mine—but I kinda like thefeelof it,’ he murmurs, words breathing against my skin as his fingertips trail down the backs of my legs.
Feelings, so many feelings,as his large, warm hands move my feet farther apart.
‘Nice.’ The word is part appreciation, part gravel as he pushes down on my lower back, pushing my ass out. ‘This is going to be as delicious as it looks.’
With a groan of appreciation, his tongue slips between my legs. One lick and I’m already crying out, my fingertips grasping against the surface of the desk as though it’ll prevent my imminent fall. ‘I was right, darlin’. You do taste like honey.’
His tongue swipes my length again before he buries himself between my splayed legs. I’m unprepared for the intensity, of how his tongue and mouth work me, and of his dirty words, promises, and growls because he keeps talking—telling me that he’s drunk on me, that he can’t get me out of his head. I’ve never experienced a high like it. I’ve never wanted to come so hard. He licks and tastes me like I’m something to be savoured, even more so as he spreads me wider with his hands.
Sweat rolls down my spine. I’m desperate to touch him—desperate to feel him inside me. I can’t think—can’t focus on anything at all but the intense pressure building inside me, and how I want—need—his cock to fill me.
‘OhGodohKitOhmyGod.’ I chant a litany as pleasure, white hot and intense, crawls up my thighs.
‘You’re so fucking sweet on my tongue.’
He pulls back, and before I process what’s happening, my backside is perched on the desk. My shaking legs draped over his shoulders, and his mouth, chin, and nose shine with my wetness in the lamp light. The sight is somehow obscene and wickedly delicious at the same time. He smiles up at me like the devil himself.
And right about now I’m ready to sell my soul.
‘You were about to come.’ It’s not a question, which is just as well as I have no breath, let alone words. Cool air spreads through the room in a burst as the drop of sweat rolling down my neck starts to chill.
‘And you will, but I want to watch your face when you come.’ I roll my lips together to suppress a moan. ‘Would you like that? Me watching you.’ I nod again as he grasps my ankles. ‘Of course, you would, you filthy wee minx. It’s like dancing for me, only this time, I’ll be the one doing the torturing.’
Then my heels are on the edge of the desk, and I’m spread so wide, so shamelessly, but I don’t have time to process or object as he slides two fingers inside my pussy. The intrusion is so slick and sublime, I cry aloud.
‘Give it to me,’ he grates against my flesh, the pointed end of his tongue pressuring and flicking my clit again and again. ‘Drown me in your fucking honey.’ I want to push into his face and bring my hand to his head as he teases me, but short of falling off the desk, I can’t. It’s like being tethered or tied.And I want that.I’m aware of every touch, every brush of cold air against my skin as I hold myself in place, panting and crying out his name.
‘I can’t, Kit! I can’t. I can’t stand it anymore. I need to come.’
‘Ask nicely,’ he responds in a quiet rasp, his gaze staring up at me between my legs. ‘Ask nicely, and I’ll make it so fuckinggood.’ His accent is heavier now, the need in his voice rendering the word something else entirely. I want to capture this moment, his avid expression, his need for me, so I can play it again and again.
‘Yes... please. I want that—anything.’ I want it all.
‘And in the morning,’ he says with a wicked half smile as he lifts my legs and drapes them over his shoulders, ‘you have to promise to tell me your name. Your real name.’
I nod, desperate, almost missing the bit where he seems to want me to stay the night. ‘I-I will. I promise.’
And then his tongue is working me, his head buried between my legs, and his fingers spreading me open for ease. His tongue is divine, his touches so rhythmic, my orgasm goes from smouldering to white hot, burning flame. I’m coming hard—so hard—pushing myself into his face, his head in my hands as my orgasm crawls upwards from my thighs, exploding in a burst of blinding heat and ecstasy.
‘Fingers. Tongue.’ From his position kneeling on the floor, Kit stares up at me for several long, loaded beats before licking the small but triumphant smile on his face. ‘You know what comes next.’
