Rate a Date by Monica Murphy Page 0,43

we’re making this work, but we are. And the next thing I know, he’s lodged his face in front of my spread legs, his gaze on mine as he settles his mouth right on my pink parts.

Oh. I arch my back, head tilting, eyes closing. He licks and sucks, teases and torments. I remember what he said, how he could make me come in less than five minutes, and I know without a doubt that if he keeps this up…

He’s right.

But I don’t want it to end in less than five minutes. His talented mouth is sending me straight into bliss. My legs are shaking. My belly is clenching. My clit is throbbing and I squeeze my eyes shut, my breaths becoming shorter. Shorter. Shorter…

God, he spreads my folds open and feasts on my clit with lips and tongue and teeth. I am shamelessly rubbing myself against his face, needing the friction, desperate for blessed release. I am right there. Hovering on the precipice, dangling on the edge, a keening cry starting in the back of my throat right before it all comes crashing down.

And then I’m coming. I’m shouting. Screaming. Panting like an animal, my entire body pulsating from my orgasm. He lets me ride it out, his mouth gentling, though it’s still there, and I’m still thrusting against his face like I have no control over myself.

My entire body is quaking when he pulls away, his fingers sliding over my thighs as if he’s trying to calm me down. But that doesn’t work. His touch feels so good. Too good. And just like that, I want him again.

“That was some show you put on for me,” he says, his voice this sexy drawl as he wipes at his lower face. Wiping away all my juices because you know, I was grinding my vagina against his chin only moments ago.

“You won,” I say, my voice raspy. I think I hurt my throat when I shouted. “You did it. You made me come in less than five minutes.”

“Worth every second too. I wouldn’t figure you for a screamer.” He hops off the pool table, making it look easy. For such a large man, he’s good on his feet. Must be the athlete in him.

“You’re right. I’m not normally a screamer,” I tell him, sitting up a little too quickly. My head spins, and I sit there for a moment, running my hand over my hair, trying to gather my bearings.

“You okay?” He reaches for my hand, intertwining my fingers with his own. It’s a romantic gesture, and I’m touched. I’m also reeling from the orgasm he just gave me, so the combination is heady stuff.

“I’m great,” I murmur, and that is one hundred percent the truth. “Can you help me off the table?”

Like a complete gentleman, he assists me off the pool table, tugging my skirt down along the way. I realize I still have my shoes on and I start giggling, unable to help myself, and he sends me a look.

“You’re going to give a man a complex with how you’re always laughing during sex,” he says, though I can tell by the gleam in his warm brown eyes that he’s teasing me.

“Trust me, I’m not laughing at you.” I wave a hand around the giant, beautiful suite. “This entire moment is surreal.”

“Yeah.” He pulls me in close and kisses me. I can taste myself on his lips, and I’m not squicked out. Not at all. In fact, I’d like to take this to my bedroom. “I enjoyed every second of it, though.”

I sneak my hands beneath his still-open shirt and rest them on his hot, bare skin. Oh man, he’s got muscles for days. My mouth is literally watering at the thought of me exploring every single inch of his bare body with my lips and tongue. “I did too,” I confess.

Should I invite him to stay? I should. Nope, no second-guessing myself, I’m just doing it.

“Want to stay the night?”

He lifts a brow. “You sure?”

I nod. Remain quiet. Ever so hopeful.

“Show me your room,” he says before he leans in for a soft kiss.

We start to head for the stairwell when he pulls away from me, running back over to the pool table. He bends down and swipes something off the ground, and I wait for him at the base of the stairs, curious. As he approaches, I see his fingers are curled into a fist, and when he’s standing right next to me, he opens his