Act Your Age, Eve Brown (The Brown Sisters #3) - Talia Hibbert Page 0,93

if she was more than good enough; she was the best he could ever have.

“Fuck me,” she breathed against his lips, and pushed him back against the desk.

“Foreplay,” he countered, but his own breaths were quick and harsh. He sat on the desk and ran his shaking hand from her cheek down to her throat. “The first time I saw you, I wanted to touch you right here.”

“Before I opened my mouth, you mean.”

“Yes. And now you’ve opened your mouth many, many times, and I want to touch you even more.” Gently, he wrapped his hand around her throat and pulled her closer. Then he bent his head and grazed his teeth over the bare, tender curve where her neck met her shoulder. A shiver zipped between Eve’s breasts and spiraled through the softening heat of her cunt. She moaned, and he kissed the place he’d barely bitten, hot and wet and decadent.

“I want to learn every single sound you make,” he said softly. “I want to be the one who brings you pleasure. Every time. Can I?” His hand went from her throat to her breast. He traced a finger over the edge of her dress for a second before pushing the bodice down in one decisive move.

Eve’s breath caught, coalescing into a gasp that remained trapped in her chest. All she could hear was the thud of her own pulse, all she could feel was cool air and Jacob’s hot gaze on her nipples, as tangible as a touch.

“Say yes,” he murmured, and cupped her in that squeezing, shameless way he had, as if he could spend a lifetime doing nothing but this.

“Yes,” she managed, the word shuddering out of her as she arched into his hand.

“Tell me I’m yours now,” he ordered, quiet but immovable. He licked his thumb, then touched her other breast. Circled her nipple with that firm, slick pressure while his words infected her blood.

Tell me I’m yours now. It felt as if he’d given her all his secret tenderness, just handed it to her and asked her to take care of it. And she would. She couldn’t do anything but. Only—the moment seemed so solemn, she felt a little guilty for finding it mind-blowingly hot as well.

But that couldn’t be helped. Because here was Jacob, studying her with steely intensity, touching her like he owned her, asking her to own him. So, really, was it any wonder she wanted to rip his clothes off?

“You’re mine,” she agreed, unbuttoning his shirt, “and you’re impossibly hot, Jacob Wayne. Did you know that?”

He smiled a little, that cautious curve of the lips that made her heart flutter. “I try. Since I know you like it, and all.”

“Oh—so you know what a mess you make of me.” She couldn’t stop her own smile, even as fire pulsed through her veins and his bare chest became visible, inch by inch.

“Yes, I know,” he said, reaching behind her to wrestle with the dress’s zipper. “You are beautifully obvious. Sometimes you look at me and I can see you thinking about screwing my brains out. You—” The zipper gave with a metallic whisper and he grinned that wolfish grin, sharp and anticipatory. “Oh, good. Now you can be naked.” He pushed the dress down, and when she stood before him completely bare, all the humor left his expression. Nothing remained but stark, explicit longing as he bit his lip and groaned. When he shoved a hand against his erection, Eve felt her clit ache for the want of him. She pressed her thighs together, shifted her hips, but it didn’t help.

She was wet and swollen and desperate for one thing only.

So she stopped taking her time and went for his belt.

Chapter Eighteen

Restraint forced Jacob to grab Eve’s wrist. Heart-pounding need begged him to relax and let her get the fuck on with it.

But if he let go now—when his body shook with the force of his lust, when his mind was teetering at a cliff’s edge—he couldn’t make this good for her. And he needed it to be good for her, as opposed to good for him, which would equal ten minutes of pounding her over the desk until he came so hard his brain fell out.

So he held her wrist, and met her eyes, and said, “Slow down, Sunshine.”

She cocked her head, curious. “Any particular reason?”

“Yes. I’m this close to bending you over, and your apparent enthusiasm isn’t helping.” Because she was just so—into him. So clearly, impossibly into