Page 14 of Stolen Moments

I do it again, slower, savoring her. She tastes sweet and musky, addictive. I circle her clit with the flat of my tongue, then flick the tip against it, finding the rhythm that makes her thighs start to tremble.

Her hands fly to my hair, fingers tightening. “Jackson… that feels⁠—”

I cut her off by sucking her clit gently into my mouth, rolling my tongue over it. She moans louder, hips rolling against my face. I slide one hand under her ass, pulling her closer, and press my other hand against her inner thigh, keeping her spread open for me.

I lick lower, teasing her entrance with the tip of my tongue before pushing inside her. She’s tight and hot, clenching around me as I fuck her with my tongue in shallow strokes. Then I pull back and replace it with two fingers, sliding them deep while my mouth returns to her clit.

“Fuck, right there,” she whimpers, her voice breaking.

I curl my fingers, stroking that spot inside her while I suck and lick her clit with steady, relentless pressure. Her breathing turns into desperate little pants and moans. Her hips are grinding against my mouth now, chasing the pleasure, and I let her use my face exactly how she needs it.

I look up at her while I eat her out, her head thrown back, mouth open, one hand gripping the edge of the desk, the other tangled in my hair. The scrubs top is still on, pushed up just enough to expose her stomach, and the contrast of her professional clothing with my tongue buried in her pussy is filthy and perfect.

I groan against her, the vibration making her cry out. I add a third finger, stretching her, pumping faster while my tongue works her clit in tight circles.

“Jackson…I’m gonna, fuck, I’m so close⁠—”

I don’t stop. I suck harder, lick faster, fingers curling and thrusting deep. Her thighs clamp around my head, trembling violently.

She comes with a choked moan, her whole body seizing as her pussy pulses around my fingers. I keep licking her through it, gentler now, drawing out every wave until she’s shaking and whimpering, oversensitive.

When her grip on my hair finally loosens, I pull back, lips and chin shiny with her. I rise up between her legs, kissing her deeply so she can taste herself on my tongue.

She’s breathless, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed. “That was… holy shit.”

I smile against her mouth, my hand still between her legs, lazily stroking her slick folds. “We’re not done yet, Priya. Not even close.”

Whatever she was going to say is lost when I find that sensitive spot just below her ear. She makes a sound that’s half gasp, half moan, and my self-control is hanging by a thread.

Her hands slide under my shirt, and the feeling of her fingers on my skin, not clinical this time, but hungry and wanting, makes me dizzy.

My phone buzzes. Then again. Then starts ringing.

“Ignore it,” I mutter.

“It might be important.”

It’s Carter. Of course it’s Carter.

I pull back, both of us breathing hard, and answer. “What?”

“Where are you? Coach called an emergency team meeting fifteen minutes ago. Everyone’s here except you.”

Shit. I completely forgot.

“I’m on my way.”

“You better be. Coach is pissed.” He hangs up.

Priya’s already climbing off the desk, straightening her scrubs, finger-combing her hair back into place. The quick transformation from passionate to professional is impressive and slightly depressing.

“You have to go,” she says.

“I don’t want to.”

“But you have to.” She’s gathering her textbooks, organizing them back into her bag with that meticulous precision. “This is why we need boundaries. Why we can’t just⁠—”

“Don’t.”