ing perfect. At the club, she’d been covered—barely—and this was the first time he’d seen her breasts. Porcelain pale, teardrop-shaped, and fuller on the bottom.
She panted, her body writhing under his, her pretty rosy buds already peaked. He stroked one with the back of his knuckles. It hardened further under his touch, and though it killed him to delay, he waited, watching how her lips opened on a whimper.
“Look at them,” he said. “Begging to be sucked.”
“Yes. Please.”
He lowered his mouth and licked a sweet nipple. Just once, torture for them both.
“More,” she gasped. “Suck them.”
“You’ll get more when I say so.”
She rolled her hips against him, rubbing her body along his erection. He bit back a groan.
“What’s wrong, Brody? Worried you’ll lose control?” Despite the challenge in her words, they emerged shaky, laced with desperation.
He drew the boxers she’d borrowed from him down and spread her legs like a tantalizing buffet.
“Just as I thought. Pretty, pink, and wet.”
Perfect.
She fisted the coverlet and moaned as he continued to stare, watching as she turned rosier and wetter before his eyes, glistening with her increasing pleasure the longer he held out from touching her.
Her hand moved down and he snagged her wrist. “No, that’s my job. Yours is to tell me what you want. Details, Ms. Strickland.”
The name was on the air before he could bite it back. For a nanosecond, he worried that it would remind her of the tricky taboo they were shattering here, but if he was being honest, it was part of the dynamic. His lust was tied up with who she was to him as well as this new, wild, sexy version.
“I want— I want”—she panted, then bit down on her lip—“I want you to tell me what you’ll do to me and then do it.”
f*ck
, how did she see right through him and know this? How the chains of his control would be broken as soon as those words fell from his lips. In recasting her demand, she was trying to make him lose that stick up his ass, and his reason with it.
Yet looking up at him with those big blue eyes, trusting her pleasure to him, she was impossible to deny.
“Do you like having your nipples sucked, Emma? Because that’s what I’m going to do first.” He bent close and took one in his mouth. God, he’d never tasted anything like it. How had he gone so long without this taste, with this woman and her perfect, lickable breasts mere feet away from his office?
She arched into him, holding his head to her breast while he sipped of her sweet flesh. In moving so close, she ground the heat between her legs on his hip.
He raised his head. “Trying to get off ahead of schedule?”
A sexy growl emerged from her kiss-swollen lips. “At this rate, I’ll have to do it myself. I need more. Your hands, your tongue, anything!”
“So demanding. But just remember who’s the boss here,” he murmured, kissing his way down her stomach before spreading her wide with his palms on the soft flesh of her thighs. “Should I kiss you here?”
“God, yes.”
“Or maybe run my fingers over that swollen clit? I bet one touch would be all it takes.”
“You’re a sadist, aren’t you? I f*ck
ing knew it.”
He chuckled. “I think my tongue would be better. I think I need to taste all that honey.” He planted a kiss on her inner thigh and worked his way up to that treasure between her legs. With one long lick he savored her.
She bucked against his mouth. “Good God!”
He continued to lick, taking his time to explore every part of her. She wriggled, trying to direct his mouth where she needed it most, but he held her in place and teased everywhere else with his tongue. Exasperated, she screamed at him. “There, Brody. Right. There.”
“Can’t get enough of your taste,” he murmured, before he finally gave in to her raging need and his own and sucked her hot little clit into his mouth. She grabbed his hair, holding him fast while she jerked her body against him, taking her pleasure. Hiking his own. He’d always considered himself a generous lover, but no other woman’s gratification had ever meant this much to him. No other woman had ever given him this—both demand and surrender. The scent of her arousal, how it coated his mouth and lips, would stay with him as long as he lived.
As would the scream of his name as she came wildly against his mouth.
…
Brody Kane was pissing her off.
How could he be so calm as she practically f*ck
ed his face? She was spread out before him, all wet and pliant, and he was acting like a robot. A sexy robot, but a robot all the same. Nothing affected him. But she’d heard her name on his lips when he came in that shower. She would make him lose control if it killed her.
Still trembling from the force of the orgasm that had amazingly topped all previous ones with this man, she pushed his head away, reached for his T-shirt, and yanked it on. Scooting out from under him, she slid to the floor and started crawling around on all fours.