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She blew out a breath. “Roses are red, violets are blue—”
He nipped her mound and she yipped.
“I told you to mean it,” he said.
“I was going to say you’re super hot and I want your cock, too. But you ruined my poetry.”
“Try again.” He hovered over her pulsing clit, hoping he could outlast her. As it was, he was ready to dive in and drink her down until he couldn’t see straight.
“I like the way you look at me,” she whispered.
He glanced up her body and met her eyes, silently coaxing her to continue.
“I like the feel of your arms against my skin when you hug me. When you wrap them around me. I feel…small.”
He kept his gaze on hers and slowly trailed his tongue along her clit. She smiled and arched into him.
“You’re the only man I’ve gone back to more than once,” she admitted around a breathless moan of bliss.
Her words were more addicting than the sugar on her skin. He wanted to tell her how amazing she was, but that’s not what she wanted. So he delved his tongue deep and gave her what she did want.
She moaned and her arms shook.
He smiled and pulled back. “Lie down, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’ll even make it quick.”
She lowered herself flat against the table. The sound of her skin sticking to the surface as her back met the wood flared a dose of need in him, hot and quick. Every breath, gasp, and move she made was like a siren calling. Those same damn breaths would linger in his ears long after she was gone and echo in his dreams.
“You drive me crazy,” she said. “I’ve never known another man like you.”
He licked faster, flicking wildly until her back was arching.
“Oh God…” she moaned. “Never known another man who can make me feel the way you do.”
He was deep in paradise, surrounded by her smooth skin and silky core, and he didn’t want to be anywhere else. Her heels dug into his back, and she worked her hips up and down, fucking his tongue every time he thrust it deep.
She was so close. So responsive. His to maneuver how he wanted. She challenged his strength, but bringing her to heel was hot, and he was a bastard for loving it the way he did. And her words—he wanted to beg her to repeat them. Because his hope of convincing her to try a long-distance relationship lay in those words. Maybe his exchange of romance for sex could pay off in the end and he’d get what he wanted.
Her.
For now, he’d stick to the rules. Play the game. An even exchange.
He ate her like he’d never get the chance again. She was drenching his tongue. Raining down on him. Her sheath tensed and the table creaked as she squirmed against his mouth. She was there.
“Ready to come for me?”
“Yes!” She threw her hips out, and he knew what she wanted. She wanted to be filled. She liked it hard and rough and deep. He ran his hand down his jeans where his cock was straining against the fabric—God, it’d feel incredible to have it buried deep in her…
But all he could do was yank her closer and drive his tongue deep once, twice, three times. And then, when she was panting, he pulled back and surged a finger inside.
Her ass came off the table, but his mouth was right there to catch her clit, lock down, and suck the little bundle while thrusting a finger in and out.
She wiggled and trembled. Her hands slapped on the table, and she threw her hips up to rub even harder against his lips. And right then, Gage was teetering on the brink of losing himself.
Fire.
Chloe was certain Gage had replaced her blood with fire.
Every stroke of his tongue and pump of his hand had her burning up from the inside out. She was so close, yet so far. She was getting what she wanted…sort of. She loved sex. Loved feeling him inside her, and he knew it. He could make her come so easily, and he would. But she always wanted the extra feeling of his naked body against hers, inside hers. Loved feeling his skin, his cock, his muscles.
