Page 23 of Unexpected Ever After

The scent of her cunt so fucking close to my face, combined with the small taste of her I got from my fingers, makes my mouth water and my cock twitch in the confines of my pants. If they weren’t made of such expensive material, it might bust straight through it, demanding I give it what it wants.

And it wants her.

Fucking bad.

All of me does.

This woman has to be the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life.

Stunningly beautiful. Adventurous. Responsive. So willing to do whatever just feels good. Like this. And that’s what tonight is all about—feeling good. Enjoying what little time we have together before we go our separate ways.

With her standing in front of me, legs spread, bare, shaved pussy only centimeters from my face, there’s no doubt I’ll be able to completely lose myself in her tonight.

Starting now. I can’t wait any longer, not when my cock throbs to be buried in her wet heat. I lower my head and glide my tongue through her wet lips.

“Oh, fuck!” Her hands delve into my hair, tightening and tugging on the strands. “Please, Nolan…”

I’ve barely touched her, only given her one swipe of my tongue, and she’s already coiled and begging. We’ve been dancing around this, building up to it all night, and both of us are primed.

I pause and look up at her, her hooded eyes glowing with need. “Please, what? Please make me come, or please stop?”

It’s not that I don’t know the answer to that question, but I want to hear her say it. I need to hear her say it. The confirmation that she’s one hundred percent on board with this even though her body is saying it.

She drops her head back against the door and squeezes her eyes closed, panting. “Fuck…make me come…make me come…”

Her words are so needy and desperate, matching the feeling gripping my body. Only my extremely well-practiced restraint used in the courtroom keeps me from whipping out my cock and fucking her right here, right now. That, and how fucking good she tastes.

So fucking good…

I can’t stop, no matter how badly I may want to do countless other depraved things with her. Not when doing this out here, exposed to anyone who might walk down the hallway or be watching on the surveillance cameras is driving her absolutely mad.

Fingers twist in my hair.

Legs shake.

Hips thrust toward me, seeking.

I probe my tongue into her again, licking and sucking at the moisture already pooled there from what I did to her in the elevator. She’s close. Damn close. I slip my fingers back inside to pump into her, steadier and faster than before.

And as much fun as our games have been, I don't want to toy with her anymore. Now I want—no, need—to make her come, to experience the rush of her release against my lips and in my mouth, swallowing it down, taking it all.

I haven't even been inside her yet, and already, it's like an addiction—an obsession to drink her in any way I can while I still have her here. Because something tells me she’ll bolt as soon as we’re through. Neither of us wants to do the awkward morning-after thing, but I suspect one night with her won’t be enough. I’ll want one more.

She squeezes around my fingers, gasping and banging her head back against the door, exposing her long, elegant neck. Her hands tighten on my hair almost painfully, and I suck her clit between my lips and pulse gently. Hips fly forward and slam against my face, her beautiful, lush thighs practically suffocating me with a violent squeeze—but I would die a happy man buried between her legs. I might have more than a few things to atone for with my maker, but it would all be worth it. Every last fucking second of it.

The harder I stroke at that perfect spot deep inside her, the louder she moans and the tighter her grip on my hair becomes. Her legs shake violently—so hard that only my shoulders pinning her to the door keep her upright. She's right there, right at the edge, and I’m close to blowing my fucking load in my pants.

I roll my tongue around her clit and bite down sharply.

She parts her beautiful lips on a gasp. “Oh, fuck!”

Her cunt clasps my fingers, and she explodes, her release rushing out of her and down my throat in a wave of liquid. I swallow all of it—every last fucking drop as she shakes and spasms. Missing any of it would be a sin, and I’ve already committed so many of those.

Christ. Jack squirting is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my fucking life.

She gasps again, her body twisting and contorting with the force of her orgasm, until she finally sags back against the door, panting. I languidly glide my tongue up each of her wet thighs and across her engorged clit. She jerks back from the sensation, and I pull away from her heated flesh and look up at her.

With her gorgeous, plump bottom lip pulled between her teeth, she peeks down at me with hooded eyes that hold concern and embarrassment instead of the typical relief they should. “I'm so sorry. I don't know what the hell that was…”

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