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“Because, Lump. We’re both horrible perfectionists.”
I smile. “I thought it was pretty close to solid? Don’t tell me any of the staff gave you a bad review at the tasting?” I run my finger around the nape of her neck.
“No, but some of the comments were really helpful for making tweaks. Especially from the household staff—they know what fresh Kona coffee should taste like when they’re getting it every day from the farm.” She relaxes against my chest. “Also, I know you think my stuff is perfect, but you’re biased.”
“Bull. You were talented long before you bewitched me,” I growl.
She giggles.
“Is your boss really such a hardass tyrant that you’re afraid to quit working before ten at night?”
“My boss is a big softie. He doesn’t scare me—not much—I just like doing things right,” she whispers, tracing my jaw with her finger.
“A brat like you doesn’t startle easy. One of your best qualities. Then again, so is this.” I cup her face, relishing her softness before I bring it home.
I lean down, kissing her until her moan flutters against my mouth, all teeth and tongue and seething breath.
“Oh!” She pulls away from me and gasps. “Wait. Let me get this fire out.”
“I’ll do it. You have another fire to tend to,” I say, unbuckling my belt.
She blushes. Her eyes are already glued to the angry ridge in my pants.
Fuck, everything about this woman is damn right adorable.
Once the fire is extinguished, she gets up, ready to go to my room.
I lead her back to our spot with wonder in her eyes.
“Why take you inside when I can have you under the stars?” I whisper. “You’ve brought a perfectly good blanket.”
She bites her lip and doesn’t protest as I throw it over the grass next to the rocks.
Then, with one last lingering feral look, it’s fucking on.
I lean over her, tearing off her dress, stamping my hungry mouth down her bare flesh until her leg curls around my waist. I trail kisses down her body until I’m on my knees, stopping over her panties to inhale her deeply.
Her scent fucking unglues me.
My fingers barely have the patience to shove her panties aside before my mouth is on her, loving how she gasps. Her knees give instantly and I fold my arm around her ass, holding her up against my shoulder as I eat my fill.
“Cole! Holy shit—”
I’m glad that my tongue on her clit chokes her off. There’s nothing remotely holy about what I’m doing to her pussy, growling as I push my face into her.
I make her ride my beard, dragging its roughness against her inner thighs each time I breathe before my tongue plunges into her again.
I could tongue-fuck Eliza Angelo morning, noon, and night.
Her taste, her cream, the way she tenses as my mouth sweeps over her drives me to the brink of insanity.
Maybe that’s why I’m so urgent to push her over the edge, too far gone to stretch this out as much as I’d like.
I want her to come for me, dammit, to paint my fucking face with the force and the glory of her fireworks.
So when she rasps “Cole!” I grab her ass hard, digging my fingers in, holding her up like a willing prisoner as I drag her nub between my teeth and lash her with my tongue.
Her hand finds my shoulders and her fingers dig in—hard enough to bruise.
I need it, honestly.
I need the hint of pain because it’s the only thing that keeps me from shooting off in my pants, my cock straining against the fabric when her legs shake frantically and her head tosses back.
She screams herself hoarse into the night.
Then it’s all Eliza coming real sweet for me, her pussy convulsing on my face, leaving me drenched from nose to chin.
I am this desperate, damned thing, drinking every bit of her as she comes apart, as she gives up the first orgasm of many I promise to thieve out of her tonight.
When she’s coming down from her high in my arms and I’m breathing again, I hold her, stroking her soft mahogany hair while the breeze licks our slick skin.
“Cole. God. I’m—that was—”
I hold a finger to her lips, loving how she stutters.
“A favor. Now here’s your chance to return it,” I say, falling down on the blanket, a hard-on like steel still trying to rip through my pants.
Her shocked look turns to glee when her eyes rake over me.
I can’t believe how much I enjoy the feeling of her hands opening my pants, parting them, releasing me.
She gives my dick a few rough strokes with her eyes gleaming before I mutter one word.
“Suck,” I order, lacing my fingers through her hair as she leans over me.
It’s goddamned glorious watching her figure out how to take me.
She doesn’t have it easy, but she tries, slowly fitting my swollen head in her mouth.
