Page 41 of Sweet Temptation

The rest of her wanted to run away without seeing him. Because after their week together, he had to say goodbye, right? And if she didn’t enter this room, if he didn’t see her, he couldn’t say goodbye, and he couldn’t leave.

“Why are you just standing there again?” Meg jolted when John opened the door a crack, laughing breathlessly.

“Why are you watching me like a creeper again?” She smiled up at him, but when she saw the sadness she felt reflected on his face, her throat thickened.

She’d already cried more in front of this man than she had in front of anyone outside her family.

She refused to let one of his last images be of her with tears streaming down her face.

“Do you still have that whiskey?”

He nodded silently, stepping aside to let her in. The bottle remained unopened on the table. She could feel him follow her over, rubbing her shoulders lightly as she cracked the bottle open.

“Want a glass?”

She shook her head. Instead, she tipped the bottle up to her lips and took a long swallow. She tasted sweet caramel and juicy pears before she felt the burn, and she drew the sting in close, allowing it to replace the impending tears.

One more swallow, then she turned and handed the bottle to John. He took it from her but didn’t lift it to his mouth.

“Going to make me drink alone?” She smiled, suddenly so very tired—of wondering what was between them, of hiding it. She wanted to just put it out of her mind, just for last time.

“Take off your dress.” As always, he seemed to pick her needs right out of the air.

Feeling warm and loose from the whiskey, she brought her hands to her chest, cupping her breasts. Sliding her hands down, she caught the short hem, then lifted.

Triumph surged when she raised the skirt above her waist and he hissed like he was in pain.

“No panties.” His voice was hoarse, and now he took a sip of the alcohol. “Good girl.”

“No bra, either.” She blinked at him innocently as she pulled the dress the rest of the way up and over her head, savoring the wave of pride when he groaned out loud.

Next thing she knew, she was on her back on the bed. She cried out when he pulled her to the edge of the mattress. Kneeling between her knees, he wrapped her legs around his neck, still holding the bottle of liquor.

“I told you not to wear panties. I didn’t say anything about not wearing a bra.” He grinned down at her wickedly. “I’m not sure if I should reward or punish you.”

She shifted restlessly on the bed, aware of just how exposed she was.

“Maybe this will be a little bit of both.”

Propping herself up on her elbows, she gasped when her sex was bathed with cool liquid.

“John.” She moaned, falling back when he set the bottle down and placed his hands on the soft skin of her inner thighs, holding her open.

“The whiskey is good,” he informed her as he dipped his head, “but I bet it’s going to be even better this way.”

She jolted when he pressed his lips to her sex. Swiping his tongue through her, he quickly focused in on her clit, circling the tight bundle of nerves with laser focus.

She writhed beneath the onslaught, that now-familiar tidal wave building inside her. She was on edge within moments as he sipped the whiskey from her flesh, so lost in sensation that she barely noticed him dampening his finger with more whiskey before sliding it beneath her.

Moving slowly, he traced a path through her cheeks to her rear entrance, pressing against the tight bud. She gasped as nerves sparked to life, and when he caught her gaze and tilted his head, questioning if this was all right, she could only nod frantically as she moaned.

Breaching the tight ring of muscle, he worked his finger inside her. She stiffened at the strange sensation, not entirely sure if she liked it or not, but then he lowered his mouth to her clit again. As with the spanking, the discomfort hit a flash point that transformed the sensation into pure, wicked pleasure, and she found herself clutching at the back of his head as guttural sounds left her lips.

“Please. Oh please. Oh God.” She could feel herself lifting, rising as though leaving her body, and then everything was bright and white, and she was coming harder than she ever had in her life. He crooked a finger inside her when she started to come down, and she shot straight back up, rocking her hips against his lips and his touch as wetness surged between her thighs.

“Damn.” His face was flushed, his breath coming hard as he withdrew his finger and slid his hand into his pocket.

“Come back,” she begged as he withdrew a condom and tore into it with his teeth as he fumbled with his zipper, pulling his pants down and off. He sheathed himself quickly, tearing off his shirt, too, as he ranged himself out over her body. Pressing the head of his erection to her soaked entrance, he slid home in one thrust, making her gasp at the sudden fullness.

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