Page 40 of The Silent Hour

“Your mouth should be too busy to form words,” I shot back, tilting my hips up in open invitation.

My breath caught as his fingers hooked into the waistband of my underwear, and he pulled them aside, leaving me bare and exposed. He dragged me roughly to the edge of the desk, smooth wood biting into the backs of my thighs, and then his mouth was on me—not tasting, but taking.

His tongue carved a wet, brutal path from my entrance to my clit, and I choked on a cry, my knuckles whitening where I gripped the desk. His hands clamped like vices on my thighs, holding me pinned and utterly open as he devoured me—not like a starving man, but like a conqueror who’d been taught well.

And he had.

My husband knew exactly how to eat my pussy. He hadn’t been terrible before, but with my input over the years he needed no words from me at all. Same with the way he fucked me.

“Right there.” The words broke from me as my hand twisted violently in his dark hair, yanking him harder against me. He groaned into my flesh, the vibration shuddering straight through me, making my entire body clench.

“Don’t stop making those sounds,” he murmured against my clit, the words a hot, wet promise.

I bit down on my lip until I tasted copper, fighting the moans building in my throat. His tongue flicked once, twice—taunting—then plunged deep inside me. My hips jerked off the desk, seeking more, harder, deeper—but he pulled back with a dark chuckle and dragged the edge of his teeth over my swollen clit.

“So fucking shameless,” he rasped against my skin, breath scalding. “I can’t get enough.”

My back arched sharply off the desk, my breasts straining against the silk of my dress as he drew my clit fully into his mouth and sucked—hard—his tongue working in ruthless, circling pressure until I saw white at the edges of my vision.

"Don't stop," I moaned softly, my voice trembling.

"Oh, I'm not stopping. His hands slid under my ass to lift me closer to his mouth. His tongue plunged deeper, fucking me with a rhythm that had me losing all sense of time. My thighs trembled, my walls clenching around his tongue.

My fingers tightened in his hair, not guiding—demanding. Keeping him exactly where I wanted him while I worked my hips in a rhythm that was anything but subtle. Take it, I thought, the words burning behind my teeth.

His hands locked harder under my ass, fingers digging into flesh hard enough to leave marks, and he held me open as I fucked his face with abandon. His tongue curled inside me on every downward thrust, then flattened against my clit when I rocked forward, and the wet, obscene sound of it filled the office—skin against skin, his mouth against me, my breath coming in short, desperate pants that I couldn't have silenced if I'd tried.

"That's it," he growled against me, the words barely distinguishable. "Use me."

I threw my head back, a moan tearing from my throat as my hips stuttered. My thighs trembled violently, muscles burning from the effort of holding myself up while I rode his tongue with everything I had. The desk creaked beneath me, and somewhere in the back of my mind, a detached part of me registered that we were probably destroying whatever file had been beneath my ass. I couldn't bring myself to care.

His tongue plunged deeper, and I ground down harder, my clit dragging against the flat of his tongue in a slick, relentless circle. Heat coiled tight at the base of my spine, building and building with every thrust until my vision began to blur at the edges.

"Ethan—." His name cracked out of me, raw and broken.

He answered by sucking my clit between his lips and flicking his tongue in rapid, devastating strokes that shattered whatever remained of my composure. My hips jerked wildly, no rhythm left, just desperate, rolling thrusts as I chased the edge that kept climbing and climbing.

"Don't stop," I gasped, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. "Don't you fucking stop—"

He didn't. His tongue worked faster, his grip on my ass iron-tight, and I felt the first tremors start low in my belly—a tightening that spread outward like lightning through water. My fingers yanked at his hair hard enough that I heard him grunt, and the vibration of it against my clit pushed me over.

The orgasm ripped through me with no warning, no gradual build—just a violent, all-consuming wave that clenched every muscle in my body at once. He didn't let up, drinking me in like a man possessed, until I was limp and gasping on his desk, my legs shaking.

He pulled back slowly, his lips glistening with my arousal, and smirked up at me like the gorgeous, arrogant ass he was. "That was just the beginning," he promised, rising to his feet with predatory grace. "Now it's my turn."

I grinned, knowing damned well what was coming next, and I couldn't wait. I licked my lips, already throbbing. Then with a soft curse, it donned on me, we hadn't taken any safety measures. "The door—it's not locked."

His head snapped toward the door, dark eyes flashing with something that was half frustration and half dark amusement. Without a word, he crossed the office in three long strides, his movements fluid and predatory even in his disheveled state. The lock caught with a satisfying click that echoed through the quiet room.

"Now," he said, turning back to me, his voice dropping to that register that always made my stomach flip, "where were we?"

He stalked back to the desk like he owned every inch of the floor beneath him, which, technically, he did. His hands found my hips again, but this time he wasn't gentle. He spun me around with a single, deliberate motion, my palms slapping against the polished walnut as my chest pressed flat against its surface.

The edge of the desk bit into my hipbones, and I gasped, my fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth wood. His body pressed against my back, heat radiating through his fine wool jacket and into my skin. I felt him—hard, insistent—pressing against me through his trousers, and my breath hitched. His lips found the curve of my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

"You smell like me," he murmured against my ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Every time I taste you, I remember why I married you."

My laugh came out breathless. "Because I let you eat my pussy on your desk?"