His softly-spoken words curl my toes, blur my senses, soak beneath my skin, but I don’t have time to catch my breath. Grasping my hip with one hand, he tilts my face to the side until he has full access to my mouth. He crashes his lips down on mine in a kiss meant to shatter me to pieces. It does. Oh god, it does, and my body is in flames as he drowns out my moans with his tongue and teeth.
I love this. I love the sensation of his cock pressed against my ass and the way his tattooed fingers grip my breasts just before they trail a path down my sleeves to intertwine with mine on the metal post. The pads of this thumb graze the sensitive skin on the insides of my wrists, but he holds me still when my knees threaten to buckle from the pleasure exploding in my veins.
"Do you like how that feels?" His erection pushes harder against my backside so that the front of my body presses against the cool metal for support.
I bob my head. “Yes.”
"Are you ready for me to taste you, love?" His voice is a dangerous growl as he moves my hands up and over my head where he holds my wrists captive in one of his while the other works against the front of my blouse. After a few moments, he gets restless. A groan rips from the back of his throat as my buttons scatter across the floor, falling around our feet, but I don’t care.
Not when rough fingertips slide beneath the starched fabric of my shirt. They spread over my soft skin, gripping one breast possessively and then the other. Jace nudges my earlobe playfully with the tip of his nose. “Do you want my tongue on your pussy?”
"Yes!" I buck against him, releasing a strangled noise the moment he pinches a taut nipple and tightens his hold on my wrists above our heads. I tilt my face to his again, murmuring, “Please, Jace.”
“Say that again.” He moves his hand from my breast for a split second, just to flick his tongue over the tips of his thumb. He squeezes my nipple again, rolling it between his wet fingers suntil the walls of my sex tighten.
I scream. For the first time in my life, I scream in pleasure. "Oh god, touch me. Please!”
Whispering something incoherent into my hair, he skims his hand from my breast and across my flat stomach. I bow against him, pushing against the fingers that dip beneath the hem of my skirt. He shoves my panties aside like they’re the biggest burden he’s ever encountered.
As he circles his knuckles over my sex, he sucks in a breath. "You're so wet, and it's all for me, isn't it?"
“Yes…” My nails dig into my flesh as I ball my trapped hands into tight fists to ease the torture he’s inflicting on my body. My ass moves against him in a slow circular motion that I pray drives him crazy.
If he’s going to make me feel this way, it’s only fair I reciprocate.
“And you’re getting wetter.” I look over my shoulder once more to see a devilish grin flash across his bronze features. Thumbing my clit, he sweeps his other fingers over my slick folds in long backward and forward motions that leave me clenching my teeth and gasping for air. “Christ, your pussy is perfect.”
"I want you," I whisper, my voice hoarse and strained. I want him, and I don’t care how he does it. From the front, from behind, against the metal post of a bed meant for chains and cuffs—none of it matters so long as he finishes this.
I’ll worry about wanting more later.
His hand stops, and a soft plea leaves my parted lips when his fingers withdraw from my body. My brow knits together when his other hand releases mine. He grips my waist and spins me around, so I stand facing him.
My breathing is labored as the thick air of desire hangs between us, our lips less than a centimeter apart. I expect him to kiss me. In fact, I anticipate the slow burn that comes along with Jace Exley claiming my mouth. Then he grins like the devil and pushes my skirt over my hips, exposing the wispy piece of lace that barely covers my center.
“I’ve always wondered what kind of panties Lucy Williams wore,” he teases. “And now I know. You’re full of surprises, love.”
He kneels down in front of me and tugs at the elastic band with his teeth.
Like my buttons of my blouse, my panties fall to the floor a second later, ruined.
"Oh god…" My head falls back against the metal beam behind me, my hands gripping either side of his broad shoulders when his lips stroke my clit.
“No, Lucy, it’s Jace. That’s the only name I want you calling tonight.”
The harsh, sweeping motion of his tongue drives me wild. My head tosses from side to side, and I arch into him as his tongue pushes its way deep inside my sex. “Jace,” I confirm. “Yes, Jace.”
"Fuck, I’m already addicted to you," he murmurs against my flesh, the vibrations dragging a harsh moan deep from within me.
“That’s a good thing, right?” I say through gritted teeth because the pressure building inside me is almost too much to bear. I’m not sure how long I’ll last with him licking and tasting and touching, but it won’t be long.
“It’s dangerous.” He rubs his straight nose along my clit and inhales deeply. The sound of approval he releases sends butterflies dancing through my stomach. “Dangerous but so fucking good.”
Without warning, he digs his fingers into my thighs and shoves his tongue inside my sex. I cry out again. He’s perfect. So stunningly perfect, and I’m sure I’ll explode from his mouth and the fingers massaging the insides of my legs. Without losing his tempo, he guides one of my legs up and over to rest on his shoulder and does the same with the other. His tongue goes deeper—so impossibly, beautifully deeper—and I move my hips, urging him to continue.
Refusing to let him stop.
My body is floating by the time he shifts and straightens my weak legs so he can stand upright. As soon as our gazes connect, we’re all over each other, tugging at clothes and on hair and skin. Falling onto the white satin sheets, he pulls me over him so that I’m straddling him.
My body shudders around his, and I have to clench my thighs around his waist to stop the tremors moving through me because for the first time since coming into this room, I’m afraid.
What if I’m not enough?
What if this man, with all his experience and his golden condom packets, needs and wants something I can’t give him?
It’s happened before, and I hate that I’m letting those bitter memories dull this moment. “What is it, love?” he demands.
“What if—” I pause, swallowing deeply. “What if I’m not—”
“Don’t even fucking say it.” He nudges his cock against my bare stomach. I gasp at the sensation of our bodies pressed together, and when I try to move off him, he grasps my hips to still my movements. "Don't move, or you’ll see exactly how much you turn me on,” he commands gruffly, releasing me. He fumbles with something in his hand, and when he pushes me away from him for a moment to sheath himself, my throat constricts as I take in his size and length.
The thought of him—of that—inside of me sends a thrill shooting from my head to my toes.