Page 13 of A Lucky Shot

“Okay,” she said, still giggling, “if I say ‘enough’, I want you to stop.”

“Let’s practice. Enough with these clothes.”

Cass turned around and placed her palms flat on the wall, presenting him with the hooks of her corset-like bra.

“Will you unwrap me like a present now?”

He released the hooks—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine—until the last hook gave way and the garment dropped to the floor. He slid his hands around her ribs to stroke her nipples into hardened peaks.

“Jesus Christ, is it my birthday?” he hissed under his breath, looking down over her shoulder where he palmed the weight of her breasts. “Your tits are spectacular.”

Ask me about my spectacular tits! was going on her next cross-stitch project when she got home. She shivered as he teased her nipples and wiggled her hips against the hard ridge pressing into her butt. “I thought you were a Scorpio. You’re not lying about our star sign compatibility, are you?”

”I would never.” He tugged her pants over her thighs until they pooled at her feet, her underwear unveiled, peeks of skin showing through the satin and lace that matched her bustier.

“Fully fucking slain,” he muttered. He gathered both her hands into one of his fists to pin her arms over her head, eyes darkening as they raked over her body. Down her forearm, biceps, the mound of her breast, and when he dipped his head to take the dark bud of her nipple between his teeth, she swallowed a whimper.

After a minute of noisy sucking, he rasped against her skin. “Tell me you don’t want it gentle.”

If that had ever been something she’d wanted in the past, her mind was fully changed.

“Not gentle,” she gasped.

“Good girl.” He nipped her; almost too hard. “Now, spread.”

She stepped her feet apart, and he stroked a path over the fine satin, his touch sure and teasing. The sweet torture of his mouth on her breast and his fingers circling around her clit was driving her wild. The man hadn’t even touched her bare skin, and she was already bucking into his hand.

A soft whimper escaped her throat. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

Oh, screw it. He’d eaten up everything she’d done so far. Might as well go all in. She closed her eyes as she pushed her hips towards him. “Please make me come.”

“Oh, beautiful, you have no idea how hard I’ll make you come.”

He pushed the lace of her panties aside, and Cass’s knee ligaments turned to rubber. He stroked a path along her core, his eyes blazing as he curled a finger deep inside, her hands still pinned over her head.

“You want more?” Another finger joined the first, pulling out to trace teasing circles before sinking back in. So perfect, the tension building in layers. He dragged his teeth over her neck, his fingers sliding in her, catching every tremble, picking up speed, the heel of his palm a steady pressure against her clit. She writhed against his hand until she clenched around his fingers, whimpering against his mouth as her orgasm slammed into her. She tried to clamp her legs together, but his thigh wedged between hers kept her open to him. His fingers didn’t slow, even after she came again, and her legs buckled.

“Enough!” she cried, and he finally pulled back with a satisfied grin. He released her wrists and dropped a delicate kiss between her breasts, snaking his arm around her waist to hold her upright. A warm, loose pleasure unfurled through her body, and she blinked herself back to the gorgeous man caging her against the wall, pushing her into the mural behind her.

I’m going to have a palm leaf imprint on my butt for a week, she thought with a giggle, and ran her hands down his torso, all taut, compact muscle stored like energy under his fevered skin.

“You did so good.” His gaze bored into her, and he undid the buttons of his jeans one-handed. “Now, get on your knees.”

Her heart stuttered in her lungs, and without thinking, she slid down the wall until her face was level with the bulge tenting the front of his black boxer briefs. Her knee would not be happy with her later, but she could ignore it for now. And ice it tomorrow.

She tugged at the front of his open jeans. “Off, please.” For good measure, she pouted, just a bit.

He shed the jeans in a flash, his breathing growing shallow as she worked the band of his boxers over his narrow hips. His dick sprung free, and she wrapped her fingers around him. He strained, thick and hard, in her hand.

She knew what guys liked about her. Boobs, primarily—Josh had already called that one—but her cupid’s bow lips and wide eyes made her look like some sweet thing come undone. She licked her lips and looked up at him through her lashes as she brought his free hand to the back of her head.

“What do you want me to do?”

Josh looked like he was about to detonate. “Open wide.”

With a dainty flick of her tongue over the gleaming crown, she parted her lips and worked the length of him as far as she could. Her gaze held his until he hit the back of her throat, and he dropped his head with a groan.

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