Page 110 of A Lucky Shot

But as much as it felt dangerous—reckless, even—it felt different. Not just a headlong dive into what her heart wanted. Need for him ached between her thighs, hummed between her ribs, and her last chance of turning back fell away.

“I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you,” she said, and the energy in the room changed in a flash.

Josh surged toward her, his mouth taking her like he was starved. Maybe he was. Last night was a taste, a tease, frantic minutes stolen. Now, he gripped her neck to angle her head back, the edge of the counter cutting into her butt as he pushed against her. His loose lounge pants hid nothing, and she ground herself against his growing bulge, matching his frenzy.

The last twenty-four hours had been a dangerous dance. A test, to see if she could resist. Letting him touch her, inviting him over, even as she swore to herself she wouldn’t do exactly what she was doing right now.

She skated her hands along the ridges of his abdomen, down his clenching ass, and dug her fingers into the muscle. The man could have been cut from marble, if marble radiated heat and groaned every time she pressed her lips against the pulse hammering in his throat.

The grip in her hair tightened. “Fuck, Cass, I missed that mouth of yours.”

“Then let me put it on you.”

She licked the V where his hip met his thigh, and his knuckles whitened where he gripped the counter. His muscles coiled under his skin, warm and firm under her tongue, and she winced as she settled her knees on the hard tiles.

“Wait—”

“No more waiting,” she said, spitting into her hand to pump his shaft, but he pulled her back before she could wrap her lips around him.

He leaned over and ripped a towel off the rack. “Knees.”

She almost laughed, him thinking of her bad knee with his cock glistening a millimetre from her lips, but she dutifully knelt on the towel. “That’s so sweet. I?—”

“Nothing sweet about what I want that mouth to do.” He let go of the counter and gripped a handful of her hair. “Now, open wide.”

No more teasing. He’d already waited a day. She held his gaze as she opened just enough to take the tip, swirling her tongue as he let out a string of curses. Her tongue slid down the underside of his cock until he hit the back of her throat.

A harsh noise ripped from his throat, and his hips jerked forward. “You have no fucking idea how good you feel.”

If his spasming thrusts were any indication, she had a pretty good idea. Every time her fingers gripped his base or wandered over his skin, him shivering whenever she found an especially sensitive spot. Submitting to his wants felt like power. Making his breath catch and his words devolve into a string of obscenities felt like music. Finding something he craved, and giving it to him, felt like victory.

With the barest pressure, his thighs opened to grant her access, her fingers sliding down the cleft of his ass and over the tight ring of muscle, air whooshing from his lungs.

I know what you need, too, she thought as she flicked her tongue along his crown, and if you want it, it’s yours.

“Fucking hell. Just … god, Cass.”His hand slammed on the wall over her head as he came, cock jerking against her tongue until he spilled down her throat, his eyes blown dark, fixed on her the entire time.

He pulled her to her feet and crushed her mouth to his. She loved that he didn’t mind the taste of himself, wanted to kiss her, like his release was one more sense to share. She leaned into him as he sagged against the wall, spent, as he stroked her back, down her waist, over her hips.

“Do you know what I thought the first time I saw you?”

Cass shook her head.

“That you looked like you were lit from within. You glowed. You were radiant. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen,” he said, voice low, and trailed his lips along her neck. “Then I wanted to know what your lips felt like around my cock.”

Cass stifled a laugh. “I thought you said you’d been thinking about kissing me.”

“That came later.” He dipped his thumbs under the band of her pyjamas. “Now, I’ve been thinking about what you have on underneath these since last night,” he said, sliding his hand lower, and stopped, an animalistic gleam in his eyes. “Charms?”

“Yes?” she asked sweetly.

“Have you been sitting on that couch with me for hours with a bare pussy?”

It hadn’t been a conscious thought. Even though she had an entire drawer dedicated to matching undergarments that she selected every day, that morning she had just … decided not to put any on. She swallowed and nodded.

“No more holding out on me.” He gripped the nape of her neck and walked her backwards into the dark of her bedroom, kissing her the whole time, until her knees buckled on the edge of her bed, and he toppled on top of her. The weight of his body on hers, solid, warm, the slow rolling of his hips against her sliced through any coherent thought.

He worked her clothes down over her hips, kissing every newly exposed inch of skin, sliding his fingers along her slick folds. “Fuck, I knew you’d be wet for me.”

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