Page 72

“That’s too bad.” He stuffs another one into his mouth. “Can you get me more of them?”

Laughing, I nod. “Of course.”

Then as I launch into an explanation of how my mom used to help the church volunteers before she got sick, I hiss at the sudden sting on my index finger.

“What?” Austin physically turns me to face him.

“Paper cut.”

He glowers at the small box like it mortally wounded me then lifts my finger to inspect it, but I attempt to shoo him away. “It’s fine. I⁠—”

He sticks my finger into his mouth, sucking on it, incidentally setting my dormant sex drive on fire. The suction and heat of his mouth not only take the very slight pain away but cause all the blood in my body to pool between my legs, pulsing with every breath. The longer we stand like this, staring into each other’s eyes, breathing each other’s air, him sucking on my finger, the more painful my need becomes. The points of my nipples, the tension in my muscles, the empty clench of my core.

As he comprehends I’m at my limit, he pulls my finger from his mouth. “Better?”

But I shake my head. “Worse.”

Without a word, he lifts me, his lips tracing my mouth and throat as he carries me to the couch. Sunlight pours into the living room, and I have a view of the river, even from my slouched position. Leaning over me, Austin checks in. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He licks and sucks across my collarbone before pushing up my tank top, revealing my bare breasts to him. He grunts in appreciation, then claims what he wants, sounding and feeling like he’s thoroughly enjoying himself, merely from plumping and plucking at them. At one point, he even pushes them together, though he doesn’t have much to work with, and buries his face in the shallow cleavage he created.

He groans. “God, you smell good.”

But I don’t wear perfume, and it’s been over three hours since I showered, so whatever he’s smelling is all me. Makes my confidence skyrocket. He’s that desperate for me. That obsessed.

Without thinking too much about it, I nudge at his shoulder. “Put your mouth on me, please.”

His eyes flick open, narrowing, as the corners of his mouth lift in an expression that can only be described as feral.

He is the embodiment of every predator I’ve ever studied.

The way he licks his lips. The angle of his head. The absolute single-mindedness with which he devours me.

He practically rips off my shorts and underwear, baring me to him and his wild gaze. He watches me the whole time. Just as I watch him.

His mouth open, his groans reverberate through my body as he sucks and licks at my clit. It feels so good that I reflexively want to close my eyes, but I don’t. I force my attention to stay on him. I want to watch him enjoying me.

And he does.

With his left hand curled around one of my breasts, strumming my nipple, his right hand slips below my sight, but I know what he’s doing from the movement of his shoulder. From the way he breathes heavily.

That’s when I finally lose it, arching my neck and back, giving in to the need to close my eyes, the sensations too much to take in at one time. His frantic hunger clashes with my own need to be satisfied.

Light flashes behind my eyes as my skin goes hot all over. My orgasm hits me so intensely, I nearly knee Austin in the head, but he catches it, holding me steady as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. I know when he orgasms from the way he moans against me and eventually collapses, resting his head on my thigh as we both settle down. I play with the strands of his shaggy hair, sinking into the soft afterglow of what we just did. Giving in to the exhaustion of it.

Eventually, Austin lifts his head and wipes at his mouth and beard with his forearm before he helps me put my underwear and shorts back on. Then he stands and tells me he’ll be right back before disappearing for a few minutes, only to return with a blanket and new shorts on.

“I bought this for you.” He drapes the cream-colored knit blanket over me. “It’s weighted. Do you like it?”

Turning on my side, I burrow into it. “Mmm. I love it. Thank you.”

He offers me a satisfied nod then sits at the other end of the couch, wrapping his hand around one of my ankles and offering me the remote. “I was watching highlights, but you can put on whatever.”

He has every streaming service, and I land on a Nat Geo show, documenting insects. I find it incredibly interesting, and it reminds me of the article I read recently about a new bug discovered in Australia that is rumored to be the heaviest on the continent, comparable to a golf ball. Austin clearly doesn’t care about insects or animals, but, as usual, he listens to my tangents like he’s invested.

When I apologize for boring him, he waves me off, saying, “I don’t mind the involuntary learning. Never know when I might need to know about a golf-ball-sized insect.”