“Do you like the way I eat you, baby?”
“Fucking love it,” I say, before he drops his head back between my legs.
This filthy confidence we bring out of each other is sexy. It’s being safe with your lover and knowing you can be totally yourself without the fear of doing or saying something wrong. He makes me chase this feral seductress. It’s empowering. Allows me to be brazen in my actions, in my wants. It’s freeing.
He laps at my arousal as if he’ll perish without it. I sink my free hand into the top of his hair, gripping the longer locks while the other never leaves my breast. I match his pace, setting my soul on fire.
Every nerve ending in my body is thrumming, coiling tight. Begging for relief before they snap. He plays my body like he’s tuning a tractor—familiar, measured, mastered. In a way, he has. He was the first person to explore my desires. What made me tick. Pushed me to the brink of explosion.
When he sucks on my clit again, white sparks flash at the edges of my vision. I can’t look away from him. How large he looks between my legs. With every lick and flick of his tongue, I push his face tighter against me.
I’m a needy mess, completely at his mercy. My voice is loud, echoing through the space, completely unabashed as I moan. The officer stationed outside is lost on me. There isn’t a care in the world that he might be able to hear me. Let the whole world know Jett Riggsby is a god at eating pussy.
I try to move against his face, but his strong, tattooed hands hold me in place, and I relish the bite of his grip. He hums, making me moan again, and then my muscles shake.
“J-J,” I pant. “I think…”
I’m so close, right on the precipice of falling over the edge. Jett’s ministrations increase. A high, breathy moan tears from my throat as he plunges two thick fingers inside me as he sucks on my clit. Pumping his fingers in and out of me, my walls grip him as my orgasm rips through me.
My body starts to spasm, but Jett doesn't let up. His tongue continues to torture me, determined to drain me with his devilish mouth. The grip I have on his hair tightens as he groans against my heat. My hand fists my skin painfully as I try to find purchase, to find balance, as electricity shoots from my core to the tips of my toes.
I feel like I’ve been hung out and left to dry on the line. My thighs try to close against his head, but Jett doesn’t deter from his mission. When I feel like I’m going to fall off the counter, Jett finally takes mercy on me. I nearly collapse forward, but dark, stormy eyes freeze me to the spot.
“Oh god,” I pant, breathlessly.
I open my eyes and blink rapidly as I watch a sexy smirk slide over his face. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath. Jett darts his tongue out and laps at my arousal, coating his lips, and I nearly come again.
He stands, adjusting his erection behind his zipper. I watch in fascination as he leans forward, bringing his fingers to my lips.
“Suck.” His voice is deep, husky, laced with lust.
I flick my tongue out, wetting my lips before tipping my head forward and sucking my arousal off his finger. I moan around his digits as he pushes them deeper into my mouth. Our gazes lock, his hooded, aroused eyes meeting mine as I twirl my tongue around him. He presses down on the back of my tongue, and I gag a little before he retreats. The act is dirty, erotic, us.
Too soon, he’s slipping his fingers free, and I’m sliding off the counter, ready to drop to my knees and worship the man before me.
“Let’s eat.” He turns toward the stove. “It should still be somewhat warm.”
I adjust my robe, tucking my exposed breasts behind the silk as I tie the closing. “I’ll eat cold food for the rest of my life if my mornings start like that.”
“Me, too.”
After breakfast, Jett pulls on a shirt and his baseball cap, looking more like himself again. I lust over the look of him in his Riggsby Cattle cap. If he flips it backwards, I will combust.
He cups my face, pressing his forehead to mine.
“Call if you need anything,” he says as he presses a kiss to my lips.
“I will.”
“I mean it, Wren.”
I smile, nodding. “I know you will, and I will.”
He hesitates, like if he walks out the door, he’ll never see me again. But I’m not leaving. Not again.
“Hey, Jett.”
His shoulders slacken in relief, as if he was waiting for a reason to stay.
