Page 101 of Falling for the Enemy

When her thighs trembled, he caught her hips and draped her legs over his shoulders. He buried his face between her quivering thighs, groaning in pleasure as he slowly devoured her.

His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he intensified his touch, his mouth closing around her clit with just enough suction to draw a strangled gasp from her throat. The five o’clock shadow on his jaw scraped over her delicate flesh, adding another degree of sensation.

She tried to pull away as the pleasure mounted, losing composure. But he anchored her in that inescapable way that made it impossible to move or think.

“Don’t fight it,” he said against her, the word vibrating through her. “Just give in. Admit you like it when I take charge.”

He worked her with the same focused attention he brought to everything. His tongue circled, pressed, flicked in patterns that scrambled her thoughts until she couldn’t remember her own name or why she’d ever thought she hated this man.

His groan, rough and muffled against her, told her she wasn’t alone. He’d surrendered too. He was just as overwhelmed by this as her. He didn’t devour her to prove a point. He did it because simply being in each other’s presence evaporated all logic and stole all traces of self-control.

She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling hard enough to drag a groan from him. The sound vibrated over her clit and through her body. When he looked up at her, eyes locked on hers, mouth wet, breathing hard, she couldn’t help but tease him.

“Your tie’s crooked.”

“And your pussy’s dripping for it.”

Maybe dry insults were her love language, because she laughed. “Make me come,” she ordered, taking charge and shoving his head down.

He stole the power right back. “Beg, and maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Soren—Ah! Okay! Okay.”

He laughed and released her clit from between his teeth.

A ragged breath escaped her. “Please, oh great lover, make me come.”

His glistening lips curved with a far too cocky grin. “As you wish.”

He buried his face against her, lapping his tongue over every sensitive nerve, hooking his fingers inside her with slow, measured strokes. The combination pushed her toward an edge she couldn’t articulate, and she spiraled.

Her back arched off the sofa. She pressed herself into his mouth, chasing relief, chasing completion, and he met her every inch of the way.

“That’s it,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to speak, his voice rough with satisfaction, his breath warm on her over-sensitized flesh. “Show me how much you want my mouth on your pussy, how much you love when I make you come.”

His thumb rolled her clit while his fingers continued their rhythm inside her, and the combination shattered what little control she had left. Her orgasm rolled through her, not in a sharp spike, but something deeper that started at her core and radiated outward, encompassing everything, stealing her breath, stealing her ability to pretend she wasn’t completely undone by him.

“Soren!” she cried out his name, and he eased up. He rode out every aftershock until she trembled wildly, until her oversensitivity made his touch unbearable.

Gasping, she shoved at his shoulder. “I can’t take any more.”

“What’s the magic words?”

“Fire!”

“No.”

“Uncle!”

“Nope.”

“Soren, please⁠—”

“Close. Soren, you’re in…?”

“Charge! Fine. You win. You’re in charge. But no more.”

He laughed, the sound muffled against her thigh before he pulled away, trailing kisses up her body. “You’re beautiful when you come apart like that.”