He holds my gaze for a second, an apology flashing in his eyes. “It’s not you. I had to.”
“Ignore me?”
“Resist you.”
“And resist donuts,” I say with a pout, but the hurt I felt then has melted away. Still, I needed to say it. And this: “You like donuts.”
“Maybe,” he says with a smirk, then he roams his eyes up and down my body. “But trust me, sweetheart. Resisting you is the hardest thing I do all day,” he says, and my gaze swings to his slacks and the outline of his enormous erection.
I hum obscenely. What is it with this man and the way my body reacts to him? I’ve never been so wanton before. So cavalier. “Are you sure it’s thehardest?”
His eyes dart briefly down to his pants, then he says, “You’re right. Second hardest.”
I’m even hotter now, needier.
He slides his hands to the waistband of my blue lacy panties andskims them off, then groans salaciously. Appreciatively. “So fucking pretty. So fucking wet,” he says, shaking his head in admiration, staring savagely like a hungry man.
For a few seconds, I think he’ll make me wait. He’ll toy with me. But Sawyer wasn’t kidding when he said he needed to eat me ASAP, since he scoops his hands under my ass and buries his face between my legs in seconds flat.
Hello, beard! I’ve missed you.
His sandpaper stubble whisks across my legs as he presses a hot kiss to my center.
He growls. I moan.
It’s some kind of filthy harmony. And it doesn’t cease. I’m panting. He’s murmuring. He licks and kisses, and I rock and arch.
Sensations flicker through me, like pinwheels turning in the summer breeze. Pleasure pulses to a drumbeat, insistent and thrumming. His mouth covers me. His tongue flicks a hot line up and down, and his fingers dig into my cheeks. He’s gripping my ass so tight, scooping my pussy closer to his face like I’m a dish he’s lapping up—and he’s drinking every last drop.
I thread my hands into his hair, moaning at the feel of his thick strands slipping between my fingers.
He looks up, stops for a second. “Harder. Grab my head harder,” he demands before returning to his mission.
Me.
Sawyer’s voracious, his hands grabbing, his tongue caressing, his lips kissing. I’m all too happy to lie back and experience this kind of worship. Legs spread, body on fire. I part my thighs wider,giving him more, giving him everything as I curl my hands around his skull, obeying him as I tug him impossibly closer.
“Yessss,” he murmurs against my wetness.
I toss my head back against the pillow. Sparks roar through me in a hot wave of electric pleasure.
I’m so far gone right now, I feel like an animal, a writhing beast, reduced to nothing but cells and neurons as I rock against his face, making the most of that beard as he makes the most of me.
My orgasm peeks over the horizon, primed to gallop toward me any second. “I’m close,” I warn, my breath staggered.
“Good,” he mutters against me as he dives back in, his beard rubbing against my skin, his tongue taking me apart, his mouth destroying me.
“Yes,” I shout, and all at once, an orgasm crashes into me. I detonate, holding his head tight, gripping him with my thighs and crying out, saying something, anything, who even knows what, as I come hard.
I’m holding on to him till the bliss starts to ebb, and I’m just a million raw nerves, sensitive and exposed. When I blink open my eyes, he’s sitting up on his knees and rubbing the outline of his hard-on.
“Give me the hardest thing,” I say.
He drags his knuckles across his mouth, then over his beard before he undoes the buckle of his belt in one filthy move.
“That is so hot,” I say.
“Take off your dress, sweetheart. Need to see all of you.”
