Page 93 of Crave Me

Thereby violating the rules of Naked Sunday.

I swallow hard, though it does little to tame my desire when I read the words that follow.

You were naughty. Very naughty.

“Don’t be afraid, Evan,” Langley says. “We at Yodel are here to help you.”

Now I have to be naughty and teach you a lesson.

She unsnaps her bra, using the large pad as a shield, she extends her arm and drops the transparent piece of scrap on the floor.

She hunkers down, scribbling fast and lifting the pad when she’s done.

You can look, but you CAN’T touch.

With that, she places the marker on my desk and drops the pad to the floor.

She leans back, spreading her legs. I rise to get a better view, ramming my leg into the desk before I remember it’s in the way.

Her hand pushes aside the silky fabric of her panties, permitting the fingers of her opposite hand to play.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

In careful, lazy circles.

Heat fires her stare punctuated with that wicked smile.

My lips part as my jaw unhinges, my breath increasing as her delicate skin plumps and glistens. As her motion increases, her smile fades, pleasure flushing her fair skin a deep red.

She’s watching me, clearly aroused by what she’s doing to herself and what it’s doing to me.

Primal need to take her overtakes me, reducing me to a savage bent on taking her hard.

“Evan, are you listening?” Langley snaps. “Twenty million—”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first time,” I snap. “You can’t have her.”

The screen goes blank as I end the call. Wren lowers her lashes, her lids heavy as her fingers move faster. “You said ‘her,’” she rasps.

I tug open the buttons on my shirt as I prowl around the desk. “Did I?”

Her head falls back, exposing her throat. “Yes,” she says, the word releasing in a gasp.

I fling my shirt off and whip off my belt, shoving the waistband of my pants and shorts down to relieve the growing strain of my thickening length. Wren’s shoulders shake as she peaks, she’s almost there.

But it’s my job to please her.

I fall to my knees in front of her. Her motions slow, her words escape on tiny pants of breath. “You’re not supposed to touch me.”

It’s what she says. Not what she means. The heels of her feet slide down my back and she keeps the crotch of her panties pulled away, exposing me to her.

I position my mouth in front of her slick center. “You said I couldn’t touch you. You never said I couldn’t taste you.” She shudders when take my first lick. “And if you beg me, I promise I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

She bucks as I pull in her soft flesh, her hips swinging back and forth to meet me. “Evan,” she moans.

Wren was already close, her skin so electrified it doesn’t take her long to peak. I don’t hold back, the way I devour her increases her whimpers and causes her to tremble.

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