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Her eyes hooked with mine, half-lidded and needy.

I cocked a brow at her and waited, heart thumping in my ears.

“L-lower,” she panted, trying to glare, but only managing to beg with her eyes.

I smirked against her skin, before my palm slid under the fabric of her underwear.

A low, gravelly sound hissed through my teeth as I fought the urge to sink my fingers inside her.

“Christ—you’re soaked, baby,” I growled as my fingertips teased her.

Her breath died on her lips, and her thighs jolted.

Dick twitching in my pants, I forced in a few gulps of air and squeezed my eyes shut, ignoring the filthy images flashing through my mind.

My lips grazed her hipbone, teeth scraping heated skin as my index and middle fingers trailed a slow, torturous line along her slit.

My thumb pressed against her clit, rubbing it in tight, controlled circles that bucked her hips with every pass. I teased her nipples with my other hand, pinching and tugging, as my breath ghosted over her lower abdomen, raising gooseflesh.

“Tell me what you want,” I drawled, voice rough like gravel under tires, “or I’m stopping.”

She tucked a whimper behind bitten-off lips and said nothing.

The bass from a slow song vibrated through the car while snow kept falling outside, blanketing us in a silence so dense, it felt as if we were the last two people on earth.

My senses narrowed on her: her smell—warm and musky with arousal—the feel of her soft skin under my fingertips, the tiny instinctive jolts of her hips, and her heavy, ragged breathing.

My mouth watered, and my dick gave an interested, desperate twitch in my boxers at the thought of tasting her. Despite every fibre of my being aching for the very opposite, I forced my hands still.

A strangled little cry tore from her throat as her face contorted in obvious disappointment.

“Beg… or I’ll drag it out until you’re shaking.”

My lips curled into a wicked line, before my teeth snagged on the hem of her underwear, toying with it.

Then, to drive the point home, I dragged my fingers out.

A low whine rewarded me, the heady sound going straight to my cock.

And because I was a bastard, I licked her off me with slow, filthy swipes of my tongue, gaze burning into hers with pure, ravenous intent.

A pained, guttural noise rumbled in the back of my throat as her taste coated my tongue—sweet, a little tangy—and my pupils blew wide, like I’d taken a hit off a drug.

It took every ounce of restraint not to yank her clothes off, haul her thighs over my shoulders, and devour her.

Chapter forty-five

Mia

Oh god oh god oh god…

Even my internal voice was a thin, panicked whimper.

I blinked slow, or maybe I wasn’t blinking at all, as he licked me off his fingers with obvious relish. My core clenched around nothing, and I would’ve crushed my thighs together, if he hadn’t been in the way.

So, I only bit down on a needy sound I didn’t even know I was capable of.

“What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”