“Make that noise again.” His eyes shine with a dark possessiveness.
“What noise?” So much for sass as I whimper again, thanks to the long stroke of pleasure he applies with the flat of his tongue. I arch my back, my nipples aching for more, and when he finally pulls the tight bud into his mouth, I cry out.
“So perfect.” His eyes are like coal as he engulfs the other tip. I feel it everywhere and sense how it might be when he’s finally pressedbetween my legs. Which I suppose is the idea, as he subtly sets me back. “Let me see.” Puzzlement must reflect in my expression, as he adds, “Show me again how you like to be touched.”
I don’t need the invitation but take it anyway as I slip my hand inside my fancy panties. “Oh, God.” I flex into my palm with a hum, my hips bucking needily, my body so very primed.
“Tell me, darlin’. Tell me how it feels.”
“Wet,” I whisper, sliding a finger where I’m slick, not quite able to believe I’m doing this. That I’m touching myself so blatantly, desperate to drive a man wild. And he does look wild, his eyes more golden than green.More dark angel than man.
“What else?”
“Hot.” Thetas sticky as molasses.
“So fucking hot.”
“And empty.” Playing my part, I give a little pout.
He gives a stuttering laugh that doesn’t speak of amusement. “You’re fuckin’ killing me.”
“I like that for me.”
His hum seems to agree. “Deeper. Push them in deeper. Take away the ache.”
His counsel so tempting, his words as hot as a fever dream, I can do nothing else but follow it. Because I want to. I want us both to get off on this.
“That’s it, teacup. Right up to the knuckle.”
My insides spasm, despite the misnomer. “I’m not a teacup,” I pant, undulating into my palm. “Fragile and breakable.” Fuck that.
“You’re my teacup,” he repeats. “Dainty yet practical. Delicate and curved.” His hands cup my hips and slide up to my breasts. “And like a teacup, you sit so well in my hands.” I don’t have the wherewithal to complain as his thumbs slide across the pebbles of my nipples. “And my God, I can’t wait to drink you up.”
“Oh,” I rasp, sliding a little wetness across my clit. “Yes.”
“But you’d better be ready, because I’m a bit of a brute. A greedy drinker,” he says, his words rougher, his touch too. “Too hard for a little teacup, maybe.”
“No.” Faster I swirl.
“Because I’ll slurp and suck and gulp until you’re so wet you’ll drip all over my face.”
“Yes!” I pant, my hand jerking in my panties, those nerve endings having multiplied somehow.
He pulls my mouth to his, the air between us all breath and want and heat as he kisses the fuck out of me. “Let me,” he rasps. “Let me taste, Ryan. I’ll make it so good for you.”
I barely nod when he stands, his strong arms trapping me against his body as he carries me across the room. I jerk a little as something distinctly hard and cool touches my butt before we reach the bedroom.Is that ... the dining table?
“What—” I get as far as lifting my finger, intending to point out the perfectly usable bed in the other room.
“I told you I was starvin’,” he says, his accent so rough. He tears off his cuff links, his movements swift. “And surely it would be uncivilized of me to feast anywhere else.”
I push up onto my palm, dazed. Pulsing. Turned on more than I ever have been.
“And I do intend to feast.” His eyes burn as he strips off his shirt. “I’m gonna make such a meal of you.”
Chapter 10
Matt
