rub the new scruff on my jaw as I watch her, my fingers shaking from want. “You come here.”
She does, still dancing her hips in those tantalizing circles, right before my eyes. When she’s close enough, I wrap an arm around her, drawing her to the side of the lounge. She lets out a little gasp and stills.
It only takes one pull on the string of the skirt and it falls in a puddle at her feet. I lay one hand flat on her belly, feeling her tremble underneath. I lift my head to kiss her navel, then take ahold of the string at her hip with my teeth. “Take this off—now.”
“What if there are . . . cameras?” she asks, her eyes darting about.
“There ain’t.”
“But how do you—”
“Because I paid off the cameraman to leave us alone for one night.”
“Oh. Transportation money again?”
“Yep.”
She’s still frozen there, so I pull on the other string, letting that swath of fabric fall to the ground, and now her bottom is bare to me. I run my fingers lightly into her slit. So wet. So ready and primed for me, and . . . fuck. So not what I need right now. But the scent of her arousal hits me, and she lets out a little moan, wobbling on her feet.
Feeling her come, seeing her totally lose control . . . that’s my new addiction.
“Sit on my face.”
“What . . . ?”
“You heard me. I need to taste you, Penny. Sit your pretty little ass on my face and let me taste you.” Let me punish you for being so fucking tempting.
Her eyes flash with worry, but I can tell she wants it as much as I do. Breathing hard, she climbs onto the lounge, straddling my face with her thighs. She sinks down onto me and gasps when my tongue hits home.
As I lick her, she’s moaning, grabbing onto the sides of the lounge in desperation. She’s tense and sounds almost like she’s crying when she says, “You can’t keep doing this to me, Luke. Give me your cock. I need your cock. Please.”
I dig my tongue into her as far as I can, biting and nibbling on her clit, feeling her juices flowing out of her. I pull her down hard onto my face, and she wriggles, sliding her bottom where she wants me to be.
She comes in a rush, falling forward on me, then slinks off to the side of the lounge and is quiet for such a long time that I have to sit up and look at her.
There are tears in her eyes.
“What’s your problem? You fucking came. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Her eyes turn hard. She sits up and grabs her bikini bottoms. “No. I told you what I want! What are you trying to accomplish? Are you trying to be some kind of a martyr?”
“No. I’m trying to save us both from making a massive mistake.”
“It’s not!” She jumps off the lounge and stares at me, her chest heaving, her hands fisted on her hips. She’s nearly naked, and in the moonlight she’s a fucking goddess. The urge to take her in my arms and hold her against me is so strong that I’m physically shaking. “Yes, the rings are fake. But why don’t you believe that this is real?”
Because I know more of how the world works than she does. And it doesn’t work like this. Brilliant doctors with bright futures don’t marry ex-junkies with nothing to offer them.
I don’t answer. Can’t, because I know she’ll argue with me and try to convince me that this can work. I have to get up and leave her now before I do something we’ll both regret.
I slip off the lounge and try to storm inside, but she stops me. It’s embarrassing how easily she does. A touch on my arm, and I stop. Time stops. Nothing else exists. I’m hers.
I turn to her, and she’s already zeroed in on my board shorts. She drags a finger down my abdomen and reaches under the seam, pulling at the tie. She lifts them open, guiding them carefully over my cock, letting it spring free, as hard as it’s ever been for her.
She sinks to her knees.
Her fingers close around my cock, like she’s been doing this all her life. I can only watch in complete fucking disbelief as she takes it in, her eyes hungry, hungry for me. My body jolts from her touch. I let out a growl