With one long swipe of my tongue, she’s crying out, her fingers scrabbling at the edge of the table and pulling at my hair.
‘Lord, oh, Lord,’ she whimpers. ‘I didn’t know . . . I couldn’t . . .’
‘Get your arse up on the table,’ I growl, not bothering to move from between her thighs. ‘You taste just as I knew you would.’ And I can’t get enough. ‘So sweet and so fucking ripe.’
I devour her like the delicacy she is, on my knees now—like a penitent. The muscles in my thighs are tight, my cock aching for relief. But as she squirms, as she spreads herself so wide and so shamelessly, as she tightens her fingers in my hair, riding my face for her pleasure, all I can think is how I want her. On my face. On my lap. How I need to fuck her. Sink deep inside and leave my mark there.
Sweat glues my shirt to my back, my fever purely for the taste of this girl. I lick her. Suck her clit into my mouth. Fuck her tight little pussy with my tongue and my fingers—one at first, then two, then three—revelling in the sweet satisfaction of her cries and the taste of her on my lips.
‘Will, I can’t... ’ Her cries are loud enough to cause alarm, but I can’t give a fuck. ‘It’s too much! Too much!’
‘Give it to me.’ I growl against her pink, wet flesh, the first fluttering of her orgasm hot against my face. ‘You’re going to come. Give it to me now.’
From between her legs, my eyes travel the length of her body. Her spine arched, her head thrown back, and one hand on her breast; she has the other knotted in my hair. The sight of her is fucking obscene, and as she begins to grind against me, crying out my name again and again, it’s a sight I know I’m not likely to see ever again.
I kiss my way up her body, whispering words against her skin.
‘You’re so stunning... I can’t wait to get you in my bed... ’ I take her silence for agreement. For assent. ‘Watching you come was like seeing poetry come alive,’ I whisper into the soft skin of her neck.
‘Will?’ she says, raising her hand to her head. The word wobbles, and her tone is watery. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’
Chapter Eight
WILL
She didn’t vomit, which is just as well. I doubt I’d have managed to get a cab to take us home.I’ll come back for my car tomorrow.She did, however, have the complexion of a three-day-old pastry by the time we pulled up outside.
Vodka, definitely. Because I prefer to think of the strength of her orgasm as a lovely surprise, not a nasty shock. And now the gorgeous Sadie is lying on her front, spread out like a silver starfish across my bed.
‘Sadie, your bag is ringing.’ Flipping open her clutch, I slide her phone under her outstretched hand.
‘Iz Kallie,’ she murmurs.
‘I imagine she wants a debrief. Though not the kind that happened in the conference room.’ I pat my jacket pocket and the silky contents within. ‘Do you want me to answer it?’
‘Kallie’s my shero,’ she mutters beatifically, nestling her head into the downy white pillows. ‘S’love her.’
I pull the phone back from under her fingers. Because I don’t fancy the front door being broken down by armed police, especially when she finds her “paid companion” didn’t pick up her friend.
‘Hello, Sadie’s phone.’
‘Who’s this?’ a strident voice asks.
‘Will. And I can tell by the magic of caller ID that I’m speaking to the one and only Super Bae.’ I pull the phone away from my ear and check I’d read correctly asSuper Bae’slaughter rattles down the line.
‘It’s Kallie, actually. Can I speak to her? Sadie, I mean?’
‘You could try a clairvoyant?’ I offer.
‘Oh my God, you haven’t killed her, have you?’ she asks, giggling again.
‘I’m sorry, but she wouldn’t put the lotion on the skin or the basket.’ I sigh protractedly before beginning again. ‘I haven’t killed her, but vodka might have.’ I glance down at the woman collapsed on my bed. A missed opportunity? Just a delayed one, I decide. It’s only on rare occasion that I don’t get my dick wet when I take a woman out. It happens, of course, but not regularly.
‘I imagine she’ll have a killer hangover. The strange thing is, she seemed perfectly coherent until—’
‘All of a sudden she was in a heap on the floor.’
‘Something like that.’
