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Until her.
Because those other women didn’t choose to be mine.
They didn’t want me.
But she wants me.
And that … that is what puts me in a frenzy.
That is what makes me devour her mouth and claim as though it always belonged to me.
Her lips part easily, swayed by my tongue to allow me entry, and I lick the roof of her mouth and coil around her tongue. Every time my mouth unlatches to allow for a quick breath, I want nothing more than to jump straight back in. Kissing her is fueling an addiction I cannot quench. I want more. More. More.
Fuck dinner.
I’m not hungry for food.
I was only fucking hungry for her.
And now I’m going to have the fucking main course.
April
He groans against my mouth, which sets off a fire inside me that’s lighting me ablaze. I can’t control these desires surging through my body. I’ve never felt this way before—so greedy, wanting something I shouldn’t have, yet I want nothing more than to beg.
Take me.
Take because you want to take me.
Take because you need to have me.
Take because I want you to.
Because I crave you more than anything else.
I hold my breath as his hands stray, unable to stop himself from enjoying what’s being offered. His fingers slide down my button-up shirt, and my lungs squeeze tight. As I lean back, he does too, watching my mind unravel through my own eyes. We’re both lost in a passion we don’t understand, and it’s going to destroy us.
And I don’t even fucking care as his fingers slide down my taut nipples and desire pools between my legs. The satisfied grunt that leaves his mouth makes me whimper as he hooks one finger underneath the button and rips it off.
One. By. One.
Off they go.
The shirt parts and reveals my naked body. Beads of sweat ripple on my back as he slides the shirt off my shoulders until it drops to the floor. The smirk on his face is unbelievably sexy as he inches closer, planting a delicate, intoxicating kiss on my neck, dragging it all the way down to my chest until he reaches my breasts. And he takes one into his mouth and sucks on my nipple while clutching my body with both hands, turning me into a puddle of goo.
“You like this …” he groans against my skin.
It’s not a question. It sounds more like an affirmation of his own sexual skills, and it makes me quiver with delight as he grabs my other breast and twists the nipple with his fingers.
“Delicate kitten,” he murmurs, circling my nipple with his tongue as though he enjoys torturing me.
Of course he does. It’s his job.
But this doesn’t feel like the kind of torture he’s used to dishing out.
Suddenly, he pulls away and puts both hands on my waist, lifting me up only to plop me down on the table.
“You confuse me,” he growls, parting my legs firmly. “You excite me. You torture me.”
I torture him?
I gulp when he stands before me, between me, his cock protruding through the partially see-through linen pants with ease. And I’d be lying if it didn’t make me gush.
“I am used to giving pain, woman. But this …” His hand is suddenly on my pussy, claiming it, owning it, and I struggle to breathe. “This is pleasure. And I’ve never given it to anyone.”
I whimper as he rubs my pussy with the fabric of my lounge pants still between us, and I almost beg him to just take them off right then and there.
“But I need it,” he groans, looking me in the eyes as he plants a greedy, heady kiss on my lips. “I want your pleasure.”
I moan when he bites my lip and pulls back until our lips unlatch, his hungry gaze impossible to ignore.
But then he takes one step back and plants a firm hand on my chest, shoving me down onto the table. Panic swooshes through my body, pumping adrenaline into my veins as he holds me down with a flat hand while ripping away my lounge pants as though they’re thin paper to him. I shriek when he tears them off my body, and I’m left with nothing but air to keep my naked body company while his eyes swath over it like he wants to savor the feast.
His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip slowly, and I whimper at the sight.
That’s when he sits down on the chair and scoots forward, clutches my thighs, widens my legs, and settles between my thighs.
“What are you doing?” I mutter, trying to lean up to see.
With one hand, he forces me back down onto the table again.
“You showed me what you could do with your tongue.” A low, satisfied rumble emanates from his throat. “Now it’s my turn to have dessert.”
My eyes widen but almost immediately roll into the back of my head the second his tongue hits my pussy.
