Page 112 of Rescued by the Single Dad

Like the future was possible and far from bleak.

“Dear God,” Brooke panted, slamming her palms to the table. “I’m going to ... oh God, I’m going to come.”

Yes.

He kept the pace with his tongue until she stilled. Everything pulsed and throbbed. Her clit swelled beneath his tongue, and more of her sweet and salty arousal filled his mouth.

He never stopped, never slowed down. He pushed her right to the edge until she toppled over, and he held onto her for the entire glorious ride down.

When her climax finally waned and she released a satisfied exhale, he stood up from his uncomfortable crouched position. His knees only cracked a bit, but his back wasn’t happy. He ignored all the telltale signs that he was no longer in his twenties and let his shorts and boxers drop to his ankles.

Grabbing her by the ass cheeks again, he palmed and squeezed them. “Fuck, you’ve got a great ass.”

She wiggled it against his cock and bit her bottom lip as she stared back at him. “One day maybe you could ...” Her brows lifted.

“Oh, absolutely. But not tonight.”

Positioning himself at her entrance, he held onto her hips and slowly eased inside.

Their moans were in unison as he filled her up.

Then she said the words that would be forever emblazoned on his brain and would make him hard whenever he thought of them. “Just like that.”

He was a fucking goner.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Clint seemed to know just what to do to get Brooke out of her head and into her body. To get her to forget her troubles and focus on what was good in her life. Which, right now, was him.

And his tongue.

And his fingers.

And his cock.

Under the harsh, unflattering fluorescent bulbs overhead, he emptied her brain of everything that was troubling her. She couldn’t think of a single thing besides how good it felt to be bent over that table with his tongue on her clit and hands roughly gripping her hips.

If she tried to focus on anything else, her brain short-circuited and rerouted itself back to the pleasure. Back to Clint. Back to the moment.

She came hard.

A dam broke, and her body flooded as his tongue massaged and flicked. He wasted no time moving on to round two, which was exactly what she wanted. What she craved. Him. Inside of her. Consuming her.

He held onto her hips and pumped while she grappled for the far edge of the table to support herself and hang on for dear life.

He wasn’t being gentle. And she was here for it.

He knew she didn’t want gentle. He already read her body so well. Knew she liked the playful side of rough. Some hair pulling, light spanking, biting and all that.

She never did that kind of stuff unless she felt completely safe with a person.

And she felt completely safe with Clint. At home.

Her body was still on fire. The flames of her first release still flickered deep in her lower belly, and it would take nothing to get them raging again. Her clit throbbed with a heartbeat of its own, begging for friction. But as fucked up as it was, a part of her was also turned on by the deprivation. By only being penetrated and having her clit ignored. The frustration was part of the excitement.

The deprivation made the craving that much more intense.

When would her clit get attention again?

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