Page 71 of Final Proposal

His kiss is a mixture of demand and depravity. Of control and chaos. Of want versus necessity.

The man owns my every sense.

My every nerve.

My every thought.

He laces open-mouthed kisses down the line of my neck and uses a hand to squeeze my breast so he can suck on its tip through the fabric of my shirt.

I shiver at the warm, wet heat of his mouth all while trying to shimmy out of my jeans. His other hand helps to push them down and then pushes me backwards until we’re against the bar top.

While his mouth’s still on mine, he lifts me up and sets my bare ass on the cold counter. I yelp because of its chill and then moan. Before I can even process the thought, Ford has my feet on his shoulders and his tongue running up and down my slit.

“Oh, God.” The two words are one drawn-out sound as I prop myself up on my elbows to watch him unravel me with licks of his tongue and his fingers tucking inside of me.

It’s erotic. It’s sexy. It’s damn near sensational. His eyes meet mine from above my mound as he circles my clit with his tongue while his fingers pump in and out of me.

My body coils with each touch, with each lick, with each puff of air he blows on my most intimate flesh.

I tug on his hair and his face lifts with evidence of what he’s doing to me glistening on his chin and mouth. “Take me. Now. Please.” I pant the words out. Begging. Asking. Demanding.

His chuckle is all I need to know he’s ready and wanting too. I yelp when his hand connects with my hypersensitized pussy. The little smack unexpected but so fucking hot that I almost come right then. Right there.

But before my system recovers, Ford is pushing his way into me like a man on a mission.

And I won’t complain about that.

He begins to move once I adjust to the fullness. Slow, steady strokes that penetrate deep within me when he leans over and captures my mouth with his. His tongue moving in time with his thrusts.

My nails scrape down the sides of his torso as my body climbs higher and higher. As the ball of desire constricts tighter and tighter.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs against my lips before straightening up. He leaves one hand on my shoulder to hold me in place as he begins to pound into me.

Sensations overwhelm.

Bliss mounts.

Desire detonates into the best kind of devastation.

The coil releases as my cry echoes through the empty room while a tidal wave of pleasure pulls me under. I’m swamped in every way imaginable, the orgasm powerful with both its sensation and sensitivity.

“There you go,” he whispers as he moves ever so slowly in and out of me, his thumb rubbing over my clit to help coax the remainder of my climax out of me.

I tighten around him. Over and over and over. My body’s spent and soaring all at the same time.

And it’s those little pulses around him that bring him to the edge. His groan is feral as he begins fucking me with a fervor and an urgency.

His fingers dig into my flesh. His thighs slap against mine. His cock works me in and out until he can’t withstand it any longer.

“Ellery,” he groans, the walls virtually shaking at the reverberation of the orgasm that slams into and through him.

He looks like a Greek god between my thighs. Head thrown back. Adam’s apple pronounced. Shoulders tense. Lips lax.

And I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything sexier.

I don’t think I ever will again.

He collapses on top of me, our bodies misted with sweat, my shirt that’s still on dampened from it. He rests his forehead on my collarbone and rocks it back and forth.