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Tension knots between my legs. The pleasure is intense, shimmering like heat over asphalt. I whimper as his talented fingers spread me and probe inside. Sebastian lifts his head and searches my gaze, reading every secret on my face.
His fingers feel like heaven, but it’s not enough, even when he curls them just so and teases that spot inside me that feels so good.
Crowding his big body against mine, he moves back to my clit. Circling, teasing—then pinching. I gasp, bucking against him, my fingernails digging into the round, hard muscle of his shoulders. Chasing the pain away is a wave of pleasure so intense I briefly lose the ability to see.
“There she is,” he says, smug and male and satisfied. He strokes me gently, too gently, then pinches again. I go blind.
From a distance, I hear him chuckling. The sound wraps around me, hot and comforting all at once.
“Let go, baby,” he says, kissing my jaw, working magic between my legs. “Trust me. I’ll take care of you, won’t I?”
Another whimper escapes me. When his hand slides away from the ache between my legs, a wordless protest falls from my lips. Sebastian catches it with a kiss, then smiles against my mouth. He lifts me up like I weigh nothing, planting my bare bottom on the stack of drywall. With a quick flick of his wrist, my panties fall all the way down my legs.
He stands before me, eyes blazing.
“Spread your legs, baby,” he says, his voice low. “Let me in.”
Oh, I like that voice. I like how deep and commanding it is, how easy it is to listen to. I widen my knees, shaking. The drywall feels cool against my bottom while my body burns up. Sebastian steps into the space between my legs, his hands never leaving my body. His palms are broad on my thighs, his fingers sinking into my skin as he squeezes.
“Lie down for me.” His voice is deep and enchanting. All I want to do is listen.
I lie back on my elbows, then the slight pressure of his palm against my sternum pushes me all the way down to my back.
How did this happen? How did we get here? I swear a moment ago I was in charge of my own life…but is it wrong that it feels good to let him lead?
A long sigh slips out of him as his warm, calloused hands shape my body, worshipping. He curves his body over mine, big and hot and muscular above me. I can feel the bulge in his jeans against me where I need it most, and it drives me insane.
I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want him right now. I’ve never been so mindless with lust, so ready to let go of every inhibition. It was the way he walked up to me. The way he said we were magic, and it rang with truth. The way he crashed into my life twenty-five years after the first time, and I realized I’d never really let go of him to begin with.
“You are so beautiful,” he says, pushing strands of my hair off my chest to lay a soft kiss on my breast. It’s tender, soft, and it makes me burn up inside. Through the fabric of my dress, he uses his teeth to tease my nipple to a hard bud. I want to scream, but I clamp my lips shut and whimper instead.
Levering himself up, his hands remain on my waist, pinning me down. I can still feel the bulge of his jeans against my bare flesh, and I can’t help arching back into it, grinding myself against him.
“You want me to stop, you tell me, Georgia,” he says.
I don’t want him to stop. I want him to hurry up. I want him to impale me. I want him to slingshot me to another dimension any way he can.
A sharp tug, and I’m hanging off the edge of the stack. His arms are wrapped around my thighs, and his mouth is on my core. I gasp, my hand flying to the top of his head, fingers twisting into his golden-brown locks. He moans, devouring me.
The man is on his knees with his tongue between my legs, yet somehow I feel like I’m being dominated. His palms slide to my hips, pinning me down so I can’t even buck my hips. His mouth tortures, worships, laves, consumes.
“You taste so fucking good, Georgia.”
His tongue moves lower, dips inside me. One of his hands moves from my hip to tease my bud. I scrabble at the edge of the drywall stack, climbing up some invisible slope inside me, wanting to hurtle over the edge of the cliff. But the slope just keeps going and going and going. I want release. Ineedrelease. The pressure inside me is too much.
Sebastian’s touch is too soft. He teases my clit with deft little strokes of his fingers, stoking me to a fever pitch.
“More,” I gasp. “Sebastian, please.”
He chuckles, his breath hot between my legs. “Patience, Georgia. All good things take time.”
“No, now.” I’m whining. I try to grind my hips, but he bars an arm across them to hold me down.
His fingers slide inside me without resistance. My body grips onto them, greedy, wanting something bigger. I whine and whimper, twisting my fingers into his hair to try to tug him closer.
“Wildcat,” he says, eyes feral as they meet mine. He removes his fingers from me and gives me a sharp tap, right on my aching bud.
I gasp, arching. It feels so good.
