Sinful Love (Sinful Nights #4) - Lauren Blakely Page 0,53

sheer magnitude of this sensual dream becoming his visceral reality at last. She was better than all his fantasies. She was real, and wet, and hot, and she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

His bones hummed, and his mind ignited as he flicked his tongue against the soft rise of her clit. She moaned, a long, delicious sound that seemed to vibrate through her whole body. He kissed her pussy deeply and then drew her swollen clit into his mouth, sucking it between his lips. She bucked against him, seeking more, and he gave it to her.

He gave her everything, and he was sure he’d never want this from anyone but her.

Ever.

* * *

His lips. His tongue. His hands gripping her thighs, holding her tight.

At once it was all too much and not enough. She felt like she was ready to fly to the moon, to launch into orbit, and she still wanted to ride higher, go farther. Everything was silvery as her body dissolved into his touch. He caressed her with his masterful tongue then sucked hard on her clit. In some kind of delicious harmony, she moved with him, rocking into him, hips shifting, keeping a sensual pace with him as he ate her out on the edge of the sink in the restroom.

The lights were low, a soft, blue glimmer against the black tiles on the wall, and somehow the glow fit. This was a decadently lit space for a deliciously dirty deed—sex in a restaurant bathroom. She didn’t care where they were. She hadn’t thought she would survive a minute longer without some kind of contact, and bless this man, he knew. He knew precisely how to meet her needs, and exactly how to lick, kiss, suck, and drive her wild. She felt untamed with him, on the edge of control, ready to let it all go. Her hands curled tighter around his head, her fingers laced through his hair. She looked down, and the sight of his face between her legs, devouring her, made her wetter, hotter.

She moaned his name, loved the way it felt on her tongue, the shape it took on her lips. Loved how he licked faster and hungrier each time she said it. They were like a feedback loop. His name fell from her mouth, and he consumed her. Like he was drinking her up. Like she was the only one he’d ever wanted.

Oh God, she felt that way right now. Nothing could even compare.

Pleasure climbed through her legs like vines, spreading across her whole body, filling her with a desire so deep and so far, she felt like it would never end. This feeling—this mad, crazy bliss—was everything. Gripping his head, she moved with him, moaning and sighing with every stroke of his tongue, every kiss of his soft, fuckable lips, and soon she melted into him, boneless and mindless with pleasure. She was losing touch with the world around her as her pulse beat rapidly across every inch of her skin, as heat flared in her chest, and her face flushed as she chased her climax. There it was, rising up, swelling, and her nerves blazed. Her hold on reality shattered as she thrust into his face, coming, and coming, and coming.

She squeezed her eyes and sealed her lips, trying desperately to quiet the little noises that escaped. And she shook. Her body just fucking shook from the orgasm that thundered through her, blowing her mind, blasting her once-cold world into nothing but scorching heat and lust.

All she wanted was more of him. All of him. She wanted to feel everything with him. Everything she’d denied herself, and everything good in the world.

As her release ebbed, Michael rose, cupped her cheeks, and whispered, “You taste divine. Ma petite fraise.”

“Take me back to your room,” she whispered, revealing the depth of her desire for him. “Spend the night making love to me. I need you so much.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The door fell closed with a loud creak. In seconds, his hands were on her face, her breasts, her waist. Everywhere.

He pressed her to the wall of the foyer, trapping her with his body, touching her all over, as if he could memorize the feel of her curves with his palms. She writhed against him, and he groaned, low and deep in his throat.

As he lifted her arms over her head, pinning her wrists with his hands, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was an all too vivid dream. Everything