Page 89 of Sweet Redemption

“Hendrix,” I pant his name over and over like a prayer, having no clue what the hell I’m praying for. Maybe for this to never stop. To never end.

“So fucking sweet,” he growls against my sex, finally pushing the lace aside and flattening his tongue. Tasting me. Teasing me. Fucking me with his fingers and his mouth and his tongue. Soothing an ache and fueling my need until I’m writhing beneath him, breathless.

“Please, please, please,” I chant, rocking my hips against his face, chasing the high only this man has ever given me, knowing without a doubt exactly what I want and that I want it now.

“You’ve got to be quiet, Serena. Bodhi’s sleeping, baby. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes . . .” I whimper as he pulls me closer until my brain stops working, and I can’t think or speak, just feel.

My orgasm teases me, just out of reach. Building like the storm. Beautiful and powerful . . . a force of nature threatening to destroy everything in its path. Including me.

Fuck, if I don’t welcome my destruction, trembling and moaning. I give myself over completely to this man until lightning crashes and the world explodes. My back bows off the bed with a muffled scream as my orgasm hits me with the force of a thousand fireworks raining down.

And I know without a shadow of a doubt, Hendrix will always own my body and my heart.

HENDRIX

Nothing worth having ever comes easy.

So earn it. Earn her.

—Declan Sinclair’s advice to his sons

“Where are you going?” Serena whispers, sleepy and sex-drunk as I move from the bed.

“To grab a condom.” Or ten. I smile to myself, knowing neither of us is sleeping tonight and grab a string of them from the nightstand.

“Hendrix . . .” She stands slowly in front of me, shrugging off her barely-there lace bra, and I nearly swallow my tongue. Soft strawberry-blonde hair falls around her shoulders in long, wet strands. And those eyes the color of the ocean that have haunted me for fucking years stare at me with so much longing, it’s like a sucker punch to the gut. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve fantasized about your mouth on me over the past few years?” Her smile is small and sexy as hell as she splays her palms across my chest, paying special attention to my clover tattoo.

I shake my head, and that sexy grin grows.

“So many times.” Her nails scrape my skin, tracing my abs like she’s tracing a piece of art. Softly. Delicately. Barely touching, which is somehow so much fucking hotter. Until she stops and looks up at me through her lashes. “Want to know what I thought about more?”

Fuck yes, I want to know.

“Yeah, baby . . .” I groan, running my fingers through her hair. “Tell me what you thought about more than my mouth on that perfect cunt.”

Her teeth bite into her pouty bottom lip, and I run my tongue along my teeth. I’ve always loved this woman’s lips.

Serena leans forward and presses her lips to my nipple, then runs her teeth over it, tugging, as her hands go to my belt, pulling it free from my jeans. “I missed so much, Hendrix.”

She shoves my jeans and boxer briefs down my legs, then licks her lips and drops to her knees. “My mouth,” she winks, with a sexy as hell smile and my cock in her hands. Long dark lashes flutter against her cheeks as she looks up at me through heavy lidded eyes. “On you.”

“Fuck, Serena. I’ve imagined you just like this every single fucking day since the last time we were together. I’ve jerked off to this image so much, it’s permanently ingrained in my brain. It’s become part of my goddamned DNA.” I cup her cheek and rub my thumb over her mouth. “Open for me, princess.”

She parts her pouty pink swollen lips and nips my thumb before I pull it back, and my girl fists my throbbing cock. She swirls her tongue around the head, her eyes never leaving mine, then drags her tongue from base to tip and swallows me down her throat.

“That’s my good girl,” I praise as I gather her hair in my hands.

Serena’s eyes water, and her lashes flutter as she looks up at me, gagging. And I swear to fucking Christ, this sight, right here, Serena Kingston on her knees threatens to eviscerate every ounce of control I’ve clung to the past three damn years.

“Baby.” I tug her hair. “I don’t want to come in your mouth tonight.”

“Please,” I moan, and she digs her nails into my ass, taking me deeper down the back of her throat.

“Fuck, Serena,” I growl as a thundering need builds to a roar at the base of my spine.

I give in with the next bite of her nails and hum of her throat and thrust into her mouth as she moans, licking and sucking and humming.