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“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he murmurs against my mouth, and his words send a tingling straight between my legs.
“What have you been thinking about?”
“Kissing you. Touching you.” He bites the tip of his gloved finger and retracts his hand from the fabric. Then he pockets the glove, and I feel his bare hand draw up my thigh. It slides over my legging, then under my dress, until he touches the soft skin there.
His eyes hook me in. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“Is this a prank? Am I going to end up walking home without my panties?”
A grin coasts his lips. “That would be sweet justice, wouldn’t it?”
“Or karma.”
“You have trouble trusting people, don’t you?”
“You have no idea.”
“Close your eyes.”
I do. I hear him rustle, and then I feel the softness of his scarf wrap around my eyes. He knots it tightly at the back of my head.
I do a bad job at biting back a smile. I feel his breath at my ear, and then I hear him murmur, “This is part one of a ten-part series called…How I Learned to Let Go and Enjoy Life. A meditation session by Jason King.”
I chuckle. “You’re such an idiot.”
But then he leaves me, and suddenly I feel his breath ghosting my legs. I sit back, leaning into the small covered stool here. His fingertips climb my thighs first, inching up the fabric of my dress, and then I feel his soft kisses on my skin.
My sex clenches with anticipation as his hot breath beats against my thighs. His fingers wrap around my panties and push them to the side. I feel him nuzzle, and then there’s that burn of his coarse beard against my sensitive skin. His tongue meets my slit, licking me with slow, languid strokes, as though he’s really savoring every bit of my taste.
I nearly hit the wall. I reach back and balance one hand against the desk, the other hand gripping his hair. My legs are wrapped around his shoulders, and I’m helpless here, helpless to do anything except spread my legs further and grind wantonly against each lash of his tongue. He crushes his face between my legs, and I feel a moan leave his lips and vibrate through me. His tongue curls inside of me, his strong nose nestled against my sensitive nub, and I thank God for that obnoxiously loud engine now because there’s no way I can stop the loud whimpers that fall from my lips. I’m gasping and panting, my heels digging into his back as he licks me deeply, drinking me in. The scratch of his beard mixed with the softness of his tongue sends strange pleasure-pain signals bouncing around in my brain, and before I know it, I’m tugging his hair at the roots.
“Oh God…” I gasp as I feel that low pinch in my sex. He lets out a low growl of encouragement and doesn’t slow down—I don’t know how he’s breathing, but I don’t care. All I can think about is reaching that pinnacle under his tongue.
I bite my lip until I taste copper to keep myself from screaming. My orgasm explodes from me, and Jason is relentless, coaxing throb after throb from me with the unending circular movements of his tongue. He licks, and sucks, and nibbles my sensitive skin until I’m trembling and can barely keep myself upright.
Slowly, he pulls away from between my legs and readjusts my panties. I feel him push the scarf up my face, away from my eyes. “Look at me,” he demands, and those blues are so bright, so intense, that I can barely catch my breath. His lips are red and wet, and he licks them as he scans my face. “Fuck,” he says, “I love the way you’re looking at me right now.”
“How am I looking at you?” I ask.
“Adoringly.” He pets his thumb over my cheek. “I want to make you cum a million times.”
I can’t help but grin at that. “You’ll have to carry me out of here.”
“I’m okay with that.”
His lips brush against mine, and I reach down to unhook his belt. He stops me, though, his hand on my wrist, and shakes my head. “No, Trouble. That’s not what this is.”
“What is this?”
“I needed to taste you again, and I couldn’t wait another second.”
I rest my forehead against his. I feel swoony and unearthed—maybe it’s the powerful orgasm or the boat rocking underneath us, but I can’t get my bearings.
“You’re going to be bad for me,” I inform him.
He grins. “I hope so.”
48
