‘You’re welcome—’ But before I have a chance to answer further, or to take her face in my hands, she drops her head into my lap.
‘Fuck!’ I exhale the harsh curse as her hot mouth engulfs my tip. ‘Fuck me.’
This is a surprise—though the very best kind—and I’m unprepared for the action, never mind the intensity. My hips levitate of their own accord as I attempt to ram myself into her mouth.
She hums as though in answer, sliding her wet lips down the length of my cock.
‘Jesus Christ, Sadie.’
My head hits the back of my seat, and I wrap my fingers around the steering wheel as she works me. I could let her do this—finish in her hot little mouth. Spill myself down her throat until she chokes on the amount. But being the gentleman that I am, I pull the hair from her face, draping it over my fist as I watch the favourite part of my anatomy sliding in and out of puffy pink lips.
Her eyes are closed, lashes half-moons of darkness against her flushed skin. I can do this, I tell myself as she swirls her tongue around my head.Fuck, but it’ll kill me.
‘Sadie, sweetheart. Let’s take this upstairs.’
Chapter Seventeen
SADIE
‘Oh, God.’
The groan escapes me, husky and desperate, as Will presses his body against mine, pulsing into me and causing everything inside me to draw tight. Not that you’d be able to tell as my outer body goes the other way, turning to pure Jell-O.
His hands lift from my hips to grasp the doorframe, his mouth working its magic on the skin of my neck.
‘Open the door, Miss Sadie.’ His voice is low and carries just the edge of a threat. ‘Open it quickly or someone’s going to get fucked in the hallway.’
I wonder if it’s possible to orgasm from words alone—a spontaneous combustion, right here against the door. My hands tremble from the weight of desire between my legs, the bundle of keys he’d thrust into my hands rattling like bones as I fumble for the right one.
Once wouldn’t hurt, could it? To get the chemicals out of our system because our attractionispurely chemical. I mean, I don’t even like him. Not really. It’s just dopamine and serotonin, estrogen reacting to testosterone... or something.
I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, or my brain to catch up because sex without attachment isn’t me. Even for a vacation fling.
But I might get a little attached. Just a smidge—I can’t help the way I’m wired. And attachments can be severed. Like when I go back home—or the next time Will opens his mouth.
‘Get out of your brain’, he growls, pulsing into me again. ‘I can think of other places you need to let me in.’See?
The rough stubble of his bristled chin abrades my skin so deliciously, the heat of his tongue following to soothe the burn.
‘Let me taste you again.’Oh God.‘Let me bury my fucking head between your legs.’
God, yes! And hallelujah!The key turns in the lock. The door glides almost silently open, and with his hands on my hips, he moves me inside, kicking the door shut once we’re inside. As we move, I drop my bag and the keys. .. somewhere. Fuck, I don’t know. My brain isn’t currently computing anything but the feel and heat of him slipping into my bloodstream.
‘Take off your clothes.’ Nothing has ever sounded so persuasive, so utterly compelling, or so damned sexual. His hands are still tight on my hips as he moves me farther along the hallway, licking and biting my neck. ‘Let me finish what you started in the car.’
‘What I started—’ My head whips around, my tone incredulous, but his mouth steals the retort from my tongue. Literally. His lips cover mine so forcefully, my mind empties and my feet grind to a halt. His hand trails up my body, his long fingers pressing my jawline, pressing my face closer to his as he kisses me thoroughly. Kisses me hard. Licks the seam of my lips as his other hand finds my breast.
‘You’re shaking,’ he whispers as he pulls back; his blue eyes are languid with arousal, but he doesn’t let go. Not my lips nor my face. Not my nipple as he pinches it between the tips of his fingers. And the smile I feel he’s currently fighting? Recognition of his power over me.
It’s been so long since anyone touched me. I’d forgotten how it felt to be held. From starved to a feast as a thought hits me: not only have I been celibate for three years, but I’ve also been starved for touch. If I had a moment to ponder, I might just get up and put my clothes back on, worried about the consequences, but as his mouth descends on my nipple, all thoughts oflaterturn to dust.
‘You’re shaking, darling. Because you want this.’
As I hiss,‘Yes,’instead of pushing, his hold changes on my jaw, his thumb hooking under my chin to better grip me.
‘Then come and get this.’ I try to move my head forward—to press my lips to his, to kiss him—but I can’t. We’re so close, yet I can’t reach. ‘Just so we’re clear.’ His words are puffs of air across my wet lips. ‘I like to be in charge.’
‘Maybe I want to be on top.’ My breathing is ragged, and my tone a retort.
