So. Fucking. Good.
“Oh my God,” I say. Aloud. Out loud. Not in my head. Definitely not in my head.
He licks again—just the tip of his tongue, a teasing sweep—and I swear I see stars.
Stars!
He’s not rushed. Not frantic. He’s methodical. Like he’s exploring me. Learning me. My fingers twist in the sheets. My breath stutters. And when he does it again, slower this time—tongue curling with maddening precision—I nearly levitate off the freaking bed.
Maverick makes a low sound of approval, grip tightening on my thighs, holding me exactly where he wants me. I feel him smile against me. Cocky bastard.
I press my hand to my mouth again, but it’s useless—I gasp anyway, a sound I’ve never made in my entire life, one that definitely wouldn’t pass for polite, but damn, does it feel good ...
He shifts on the mattress, hands digging beneath my ass, lifting my pussy closer to his face, going in hard.
Devouring me.
Holy . . .
Shit.
Oh my . . .
God.
I . . . I . . . what’s my name?
Annabelle, you lucky bitch . . .
Maverick sucks, thumb creeping closer to my ass, pressing into the crack. Dirty, dirty boy. It feels amazing. So, so good, I forget for a second that we’ve not known one another long, and who the hell gives a shit? He is so hot. His mouth is ...
His mouth is relentless—lips, tongue, teeth, like he’s hell bent on ruining me for all future pleasure. My back arches off the mattress again, a strangled sound tearing from my throat as his name tumbles out like a prayer.Or a curse.
“Maveri—”
He shakes his head. “Callum.”
Callum. Ahh. I see. That is what he prefers when we’re being intimate.
“Callum,” I moan.
He hums against me like I’m the one testing his patience, like I’m the one driving him to the brink. My thighs try to close around his head on instinct, but his hands tighten, keeping me open, exposed. His to savor.
“You’re killing me.” My voice is breathless.
“Killing you?” he repeats, removing his mouth for a split second, cocky smirk visible in the storm-lit dark. “I’ll stop if you ask me to, but only if you ask nice.”
Like hell.Don’t you fucking dare ...
If this is what he’s like with his mouth, I’m going to need a moment of silence for my entire nervous system.
“Don’t stop.”
When he laughs, it’s low in his chest. “That’s what I thought you were going to say.”
His mouth returns to my body with devastating precision, every stroke of his tongue dragging me further ...higher... until the edges of my vision blur. My fists clutch the sheets, nails tearing into cotton like they’re the only anchor holding me here. He’s unhurried. Taking his time, enjoying himself, savoring every tortured sound that leaves my throat.
I can feel him smiling against my thigh.
