Sinful Love (Sinful Nights #4) - Lauren Blakely Page 0,26
with after midnight in the backseat. She was a woman, and he was a man. He needed it harder, rougher, hungrier, too. He drew her bottom lip between his, sucking and nibbling as she writhed closer, wrapping her legs around him.
One hand snaked down her tank, brushing the top of a perfect breast, and he moaned deeply into her mouth then resumed the kiss, a commanding kiss that would leave her lips bruised. She arched her back, seeking more closeness.
Traveling from her breasts to her stomach to her jeans, he flicked open the top button. A clock sounded in his head, awareness that time was ticking, that someone could knock at any moment. The lock was in place, but even so, he wasn’t going to finally fuck her right now. That would happen when he could spread her out on a bed, worship her beautiful body, and kiss every inch of her skin. It would happen when he could bury his face between her legs and taste her sweetness for the first time, making her come. It would happen, too, when she was ready.
His blood heated as he imagined how intense it would be to have her.
There wasn’t time now for all that he wanted, but there were more than enough minutes to make her come. He unzipped her jeans, and she gripped his shoulders, her breath pouring out in a hungry moan. Sliding his hand over the fabric of her panties, his fingertips traced what he suspected was a perfect auburn landing strip waiting for him beneath the lace. He dropped lower, touching the wet panel of her panties.
“And evidently, you’re a bit turned on now, too,” he said, in the understatement of the year.
“Just a tiny bit,” she said, as her lips fell open. Her head rolled back. Legs widened. There was so much want in her eyes. So much need. Wedged between her legs, his cock throbbing and pressed hard against her thigh, he slid his finger inside her panties, brushing wet, swollen lips.
Fuck.
Hot and velvet and so damn wet. For him.
“I can take care of this for you.”
“Please.” Her voice was feathery, a soft, gasping cry.
He wasn’t sure who needed this more—him or her. He desperately wanted to make her lose control, to surrender. Hell, she seemed to crave it like air. Her heady moans, her breathy gasps, told him she was a woman consumed. He could smell her need, could feel it radiating off of her. She was a tuning fork, vibrating at the highest frequency of desire.
He ran his fingers through her slick heat until he was coated in her.
“So good,” she whispered, as he traced circles over her clit.
He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked off her taste. Her green eyes widened, watching him. “How do I taste?” she asked, breathlessly.
“Decadent,” he answered in a growl.
“Give me some,” she demanded.
And that was entirely new. That was not the Annalise he knew before. She’d never demanded to share. He was thrilled at this dirtier side.
“Such a greedy lover,” he teased, as he rubbed his finger over her lips. Instantly, she drew him into her mouth, taking his finger all the way in, sucking off her taste as if she were sucking his cock. His dick twitched, hardening to nearly uncomfortable levels in his pants. But he’d take this torture of bliss. He’d fucking live in it for hours, just to witness the sight of her mad desire. She twirled her tongue around him, as if simulating how she’d take him in her mouth. She’d never done that. He’d never felt her lush lips on his shaft, and now he knew what fantasy he’d be jacking off to tonight.
She looked so good like that. So fucking hot and greedy, her cheeks hollowed out as her lips gripped tight. More. He wanted to see more of this.
Taking his fingers from her mouth, he dipped them across her slick folds again, then returned them to her lips. He fucked her mouth with his fingers, as he brought his other hand between her legs. As he stroked her, he learned her pace quickly—she liked it fast and hard—and he rubbed her clit like that, in perfect, speedy circles.
She moved her hips against his hand, writhing into him. Then, with her tongue, she pushed his fingers out of her mouth, freeing herself to moan, broken words of bliss in her French accent.