A growl rumbles in my throat, and before I have time to comprehend my actions, I’ve thrown myself at his chest and buried my fingers in his hair. He clasps my ass, lifting me to him, my legs winding around his waist as my back collides with the wall.
The way his mouth takes mine is nothing short of possessive, ownership in its purest, most simple form. He can have my mouth, and just about any other part of me right now, and I don’t even know why I’m willing to give it to him.
Heels digging into his ass, I spur him on, pulling a groan from his throat as I arch against him. I’m hot and wet and I’ve never wanted anything the way I want Garrett right now.
Pinning me to the wall with his hips, he tears my shirt over my head. Never have I seen something as ferocious as his scorching gaze as it drags over me, lighting every nerve ending on fire in its wake. With a fistful of my hair, he buries his face in my neck, his warm mouth teasing, nipping, leaving a wet trail as it glides.
“Are you gonna let me take care of you tonight, sunshine? ’Cause it’s all I can fucking think about.”
God, yes. I drag his mouth back to mine, right where I want it. His tongue sweeps inside, exploring, tasting, taking. I want more, and it’s been so damn long since I’ve wanted anything, since I’ve felt like somebody wanted me—just me—this much.
Dropping me to my feet, he grips the back of my neck, spins me around, and presses me to the wall. Fingers dance over my hip, my belly, until his delicate touch kisses the spot I ache most, and I claw at the wall as tears of desperation prickle.
I don’t want the teasing; I just want him to fingerbang me into next year. Is that too much to ask?
So I beg a raspy, “Please,” when he traces the inside of my quivering thighs.
“Tell me what you want, Jennie.”
“Touch me,” I whisper, hanging my head. His grip on my neck tightens, forcing my eyes to his over my shoulder. “Please, Garrett.”
He skims my clit, pulling a shaky burst of air from my lips. “Here?”
“Fuck, yes,” I gasp as he strokes me slowly.
“Jesus, you’re wet.” His tongue slides up the length of my neck. “So fucking wet.” He sinks two fingers inside me and smiles against my shoulder when I cry out. “You gonna let me fuck this pussy one day?”
“Holy shit,” I cry. The dirty talk is doing me in, paired with the touch of another person, intimacy I’ve craved for so long, even if I’ve been denying it. “Who are you?”
His low chuckle sends shivers down my spine. Releasing my neck, he presses two fingers to my clit. “I can’t wait to feel you come on my fingers.”
“Fuck.” I grip his hand, lacing our fingers, pulling him closer and pushing him away all at once. He shoves a knee between my thighs, spreading them wider, and thrusts his fingers deeper, harder, taking me further than I’ve ever been able to take myself. “Garrett.”
His fingers move quickly, pushing me closer to that edge, the one I want him to throw me right over.
And does he ever throw me over it. Brings me up that peak, drags me right to the edge, and when he looks me in the eye and demands come, he tosses me over and watches me free-fall into oblivion, buckling at the knees.
Without missing a beat, Garrett winds an arm around my waist and tosses me to the bed. His knees hit the mattress as he tears his shirt over his head, and he crawls toward me, hitting me with a wink that has the heartbeat between my legs pounding.
“Do you want me to taste you, Jennie?” He taps my knees and they fall open for him. “’Cause I wanna fuckin’ taste you.”
I can’t answer, but he’s not waiting. He shoves his arms below my legs, grabs my hips, and yanks me down the mattress. Our eyes lock and his mouth descends right as I forget my own name.
“Oh shit,” I weep behind my palm. He wrenches my hand away in time for his name to come ripping up my throat as his fingers pierce through me, tongue flicking, mouth sucking.
Peering up at me with a smile so broad, so handsome, so fucking wicked, he licks his lips. “My name sounds so much better coming from that mouth when you’re screaming it for an entirely different reason.”
His thumb replaces his mouth on that swollen nub as he drags his lips up my torso, then licks an achingly slow path around one taut nipple. “These tits are fuckin’ perfect. Perfect tits, perfect pussy.” He pulls one nipple between his teeth, tongue swirling before he pops off, presses a searing kiss to my mouth, and disappears between my legs again.
Garrett’s mouth is exactly how I imagine heaven, warm and incredible, like sunshine between my thighs, utter perfection that forces my fingers into his hair, urging him closer. Each lash of his tongue is fluid, the thrusts of his fingers deep and powerful, and his eyes meet mine as he sucks my clit into his mouth.
My head falls to the mattress as his name leaves my lips again, my body shaking, quivering with the type of orgasm you only read about in books, the kind I didn’t think were real. And Garrett just buries himself between my thighs, drinking up every ounce like he’ll die without it.
He withdraws his fingers and gives me three languid, reverent passes with his tongue, licking me clean as I collapse, arms over my head. The light scruff on his jaw tickles my inner thigh when he wipes his face off there, and I shudder, trying to breathe again.
Garrett falls beside me, the mattress bouncing beneath his weight. “Fuck, you taste amazing,” he croaks out, all gravel. Our eyes meet, and when his drift down my body, I heat with sudden nerves under the intensity of his stare.
I scramble off the bed, reaching for my shirt, clutching it to my chest. I toss Garrett’s to him. He takes it for the sign it is, though I see the confusion coasting through his eyes, marring his forehead.
It’s less confusion, more curiosity, if I’m being honest. He doesn’t know what this means, and neither do I. That felt good. Amazing. But it can’t happen again.
Can it?
I slip my shirt on, sink to the bed, and pull my knees to my chest as Garrett stands and covers his ridiculous abs.
“You should go,” I say. There’s no force behind the words. I’d like him to stay, and I’d like to ride his face until I pass out from too many orgasms. Is that a thing? It should be. Anyway, if he gave me any pushback about leaving, I’d fold in a heartbeat, despite the confusion.
Unfortunately for me, he nods. Five times.
“I should go.” He adjusts the giant lump in his pants, and though he’s not asking, I wish I could return the favor. But it’s been a while, and I’m kind of…unsure. He’s probably had the Holy Grail of blow jobs. I’m competitive as hell and hate being bad at anything. Finding out I’m bad at blow jobs is not something I’m prepared to handle tonight. “But was that…?”
“Great,” I answer breathlessly, swiping my damp hair from my forehead. “Yeah, super great.”
“Oh good. Great. I’m glad. And you feel…?”
With trembling hands, I gesture at my sweaty face, then at my legs, still shaking with the aftershock of my orgasms. “Amazing.”
His head bobs as he claps his fist into his opposite hand. “Amazing. Good.” He backs toward the door, pointing at me with two finger guns. “We should do that again sometime.”
“Uh, absolutely.”
His face lights up. “Cool.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head. “No, we shouldn’t.”
He frowns. “No, we shouldn’t.”
“Carter.”
He nods, solemn. “Carter.”
“So…good night?”
He waves. “Night.”
Instead of leaving, Garrett continues to stand there, the two of us staring at each other. I’m still naked from the waist down, and I’m sitting in an explosion of my own fluids. It’s uncomfortable, but more than that, staring at him right now, his hair a mess, cheeks flushed, it’s making my lady bits all tingly again.