Page 111 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Allison cleared her throat, snapping him out of his embarrassing stupor.

She moved to close her legs, a look of discomfort on her face. “I know. It’s been harder to shave with the bump—”

“Oh, no,” Angelo growled, his voice low and commanding. “You do not get to do that to yourself.” His grip on her thigh tightened slightly, the warning clear. “You need to stop that right now, or this will turn into a much longer lunch than I planned.”

“Lunch?” she echoed, breathless. The tension in her expression softened a little, but he could still see the distant look in her eyes, as if she was retreating into that beautiful, chaotic mind of hers again.

A slow, knowing smirk crept across his lips. He let his hand slide higher up her thigh, the touch deliberate, a reminder of his control, and how she didn’t need to think—he’d take care of everything. “Yes, lunch,” he teased, his thumb brushing over her soft skin. “But only if you behave.”

Angelo lowered his head, licking a long line from her entrance to her clit. Allison’s head fell back, arching off the bed and fisting the sheets.

He moaned at the taste of her, her juices warm and intoxicating on his tongue. She was drenched, her body craving him, and he found himself silently begging every star in the sky to let him do this every day for the rest of his life. Each time hemoved, the vibrations made her shudder, a response he couldn’t get enough of. He repeated the action, this time focusing his tongue on her clit, and she responded with a moan that was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Oh, fuck,” Allison panted, her hips lifting off the bed as she tried to align herself with his mouth, her need unmistakable. He had no objections, every movement a testament to his devotion.

He was reluctantly forced to come up for air, only to keep indulging in the pleasure of his feast. He wasn’t about to let something as trivial as suffocation cut this moment short.

Although,that wouldn’t be a bad way to go—death by pussy.

He breathed her in.

“You smell so good,” he growled, his voice reaching a possessive and animalistic timber he’d never experienced before. “You taste even better.” He leaned in for another taste and hummed in satisfaction. “So sweet.” A lick along her slit. “So wet.” Another drag of his tongue from her slit all the way up to her clit. “So.” One more lick. “Fucking.” Another. “Mine.”

He had barely finished speaking before he dove back in. There was no time for idle chatter; his focus was on savoring this moment. Talking was for later—right now, it was all about eating.

He traced his name on her clit with his tongue, barely able to contain the grin spreading across his face at the thought of his name etched onto her body.

“A.” She moaned, her back arching with the sound.

“N.” She fisted the sheets so tightly it seemed like she might tear them.

“G.” Her thighs closed around his head, locking him in place.

“E.” His hand traveled up her body, settling on her breast, teasing her nipple with his fingertips.

“L.” She gasped, her body winding up.

“O.” And then, with a shuddering cry, she exploded in his mouth.

And it was fuckingglorious.

Tremors wracked her body, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she rode the waves of her release. One hand shot up, tangling in his hair, fingers gripping tightly. She pulled hard—so hard that he would’ve gladly let her rip every strand from his scalp if it meant he could keep hearing those sounds from her lips.

“Angelo!” she screamed and his already hard dick grew even harder.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he whispered as he kissed her pussy, letting her ride out her high. “Make a mess of my sheets.”

He continued placing soft, feather-light kisses on her clit, chuckling at the way her body twitched in response to her hypersensitivity. Each tremor made his grin widen, but he didn’t stop. His hands stroked the insides of her thighs, trailing slowly down to her calves before gliding back up. He watched as her muscles tightened beneath his touch, her body still reacting to the aftershocks of her release, completely under his spell.

She finally released her grip on his hair, and Angelo had to fight the urge to grab her hand and place it right back where it belonged. His sanity was hanging by a thread. As her hands dropped to the bed, she began to push herself up, trying to scoot back. But before she could get far, Angelo’s arms wrapped around her thighs, his hold firm and possessive, locking her in place.

“We have some things to talk about,” Angelo said, his voice steady even though his thoughts were a mess. He needed this woman like he needed his next breath, but first, he had to clear the air.

Probably could have picked a better time for it, though.

Allison’s face turned cold, her body tensing. The shift hit him hard, and it took only a second for him to realize what this looked like to her.

Clearly, it was too late to take it back.

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