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I suck in a breath through clenched teeth. “You mean …?”
She tilts her head to the side and grabs another handful of my shirt; she rises on her tip-toes to whisper in a hot, throaty voice, “I’m pretty sure that closet is empty.”
My whole body downright pounds with desire. At this point, no level of danger, no level of risk could keep me from ravishing her body, from being inside her just one more time.
I reach for the doorknob. I feel like I’ll fucking die on the spot if this thing is locked; but luckily, it turns when I press it down. I pull Zoey through the cracked open door and lock it behind us.
In the room, there’s a dim illumination from a weak overhead lightbulb. It’s enough for me to see the crimson on Zoey’s cheeks, the sheen of her midnight black hair, the deep blue of her eyes—and the hunger that twinkles in them.
I crush my lips to hers again, kissing her even more deeply, with less restraint, now that we’re alone. I slide my tongue across the crease of her lips and when she opens them, I spear my tongue into her mouth, savoring her taste and her velvety softness.
I press her against the wall and push myself against her, boxing her in and feeling the softness of her curves against my hard body. I press my knee between her legs; a soft moan falls from her mouth as she parts them. I can feel the humidity from her dampness as the front of my leg presses against her center.
I drag my lips away from her mouth and drop kisses along the outline of her jaw, leading to the tender spot below her ear. She squirms as I press my lips to the sensitive flesh.
I whisper in her ear, “How often have you dreamed about this?”
“Every night,” she moans.
That response has every muscle in my body coiling with tension. To think that she was burning for me at the same moments I was burning for her, even though we were states apart, almost sends me over the edge.
Despite how intense those dreams about Zoey felt at the time, I now realize what a pale and dull imitation of the real thing they were.
Her lips are a hundred times softer than I remembered, her scent a hundred times more intoxicating.
I spear my fingers into her hair and twirl a greedy handful of her sleek hair around my fist. Her hair is thicker, softer than I remembered; feeling it wrapped right around my hand is a hundred times more exhilarating.
I pull back on her hair, angling her head for me to recapture her mouth. With my left hand I reach for her breast, cupping it in my palm through her shirt. It fits even more perfectly in my palm than I remember.
Does her pussy taste even sweeter than I remember?
Fuck, I can’t go another minute without finding out.
She gasps as I let go of her hair and drop to my knees. Now her hands are fisted into my hair, tightly gripping it as I dip my head under her skirt and tug down her panties. I help her carefully step out of them with her shoes still on, and I shove them in my back pocket for safe keeping.
Her scent floods my nose, and I breathe it in greedily. I growl on the exhale, the smell of her arousal and the sight of her gorgeous pink pussy making me feel like a fucking animal.
“Fuck, Zoey,” I groan. “You’re dripping wet for me.”
I lightly run the tip of my nose up the length of her slit. She quivers, her hands tightening around my hair, the pressure on my scalp stinging in the very best way.
I wish we could stay here all night; I wish I could draw this out. I’d love to have her a quivering, shaking mess, begging me for release as I eat her out to my heart’s content.
But we’re on borrowed time.
She sucks in a sharp, quick breath as I slant the flat of my tongue against her. Her salty-sweet juices flood my mouth, and the last bit of my restraint snaps. I feast on her, my tongue greedily sweeping across her folds, leaving no part of her untasted.
Her hips buck into me, her stomach quivering above my head. Her fingers wrap tightly around my hair. The air fills with her stifled moans. She’s trying not to call out, not to yelp, but still can’t help spilling stuttering whimpers and groans of pleasure, and the sounds are just as sweet as her juices on my lips and tongue.
Her body becomes taut as I swirl my tongue around her clit. “Liam,” she yelps, “I’m … I’m …”
Sensing an orgasm building in her body, I suck on the tense nub.
“Oh my gosh, Liam,” she moans, “right there … oh … oh fuck …”
Her words are a stuttered, garbled mess, and they only spur me on to wring more pleasure from her. I increase the pressure of my mouth on her clit while slanting my tongue over just the right spot, and she comes undone.
Her legs shake, her stomach undulates, her fingers curl so tight into my hair that I feel like she’s going to pull out strands by the roots.
