Page 45 of Into the Woods

I circle her opening with the pad of my finger, pushing, dipping in and spreading her juices.

She pants and mewls with every dip.

The sounds she makes are merely a tease; I want her moaning, writhing, gasping beneath me. I want her fingernailsdigging into my flesh, for her to mark me the way she fucking owns me.

I want it to be my name on her lips as I pound into her, the sound echoing through the room as she comes apart.

Maybe she knows where my thoughts are, maybe neither of us are thinking at all, because when I pump my finger into her tight cunt and then add another, spreading them, stretching her, she moans my name, her muscles squeezing, hips rocking.

I drop to my knees and replace my fingers with my tongue, delving into her silky depths and savoring the way she tastes.

The hint of her protest rolls right into cries of ecstasy. And me?—I’ve died and gone to heaven.

She’s sweet like the purest honey.

Every swirl of my tongue around her tight little bud of nerves has her gasping and writhing in pleasure. I lick into her pussy, and suck each of her lips into my mouth, relishing everything about this moment. When she’s trembling in my grasp, I wrap my lips around her clit and suck—hard—until her hips buck against my face, coating me in her juices. I bracket her swollen nub between my teeth teasing the tip of her clit with my tongue. The bite of pain, the overall sensation—I don’t know—has her spearing her fingers through my hair. Pulling me in tight. Pushing me away.

Responsive.

Head thrown back; lips parted.

Delicious.

Legs quivering and hips rocking.

I want to devour her.

Gasping for air as she floods my tongue.

“Fuck, yes. Give it to me, honeybee. I need everything you’ve got.” Like a man possessed, I slide three fingers inside her, pump them in and out as I feast on her, needing her to come for me.The sounds are liquid and messy and sexy as fuck. I push deeper, lost in her, consumed by my need for her.

“Stop,” she gasps at the intrusion and squeezes her thighs together trapping my hand. She pushes hard against me, shoving me with everything she has.

“Stop, Christophe. You have to stop.”

She uses my surprise to rip herself away from me and escape. Her grasp on the edge of the desk is all that’s holding her up because those long, beautiful legs are boneless and doing nothing for her.

I stand and face her, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My eyes narrow as I pin her in place. “I don’t have to do a fucking thing,” I warn.

A handful of steps has my dick pressed against her ass, separated by my trousers and the scrap of red silk she’s trying to smooth back into place. I grab a handful of her hair and push until her chest is pressed against the desk. The thought of taking her like this, bent over and balancing on her toes, ass in the air, has me burning up.

I shove my foot between hers to kick them apart but far more agile than she should be right now, Winnie twists away from me and puts far too much space between us.

Cheeks flushed, tits heaving, and bee-stung lips, she looks like a goddess. A beautiful, messy goddess and I want to spend a lifetime worshipping her. Hell, she’s the only woman I have ever gotten down on my knees for.

In the space of a heartbeat, the heat swirling between us shifts and I move.

One step and her hand flies up, palm out.

Two steps and her shoulders drop, her jaw set.

“Don’t. Don’t come closer.”

I smirk. “I plan on coming, honeybee, but only after I get you there again. I want to hear my name fall from your lips as you come apart. I want you to scream for me.”

“No.” Her hands flutter across her chest, adjusting the front bands of her dress, putting herself back together.

“I agree, no.” I wrap my hands around her delicate wrists and growl as I erase the space between us. “Don’t you hide what’s mine from me.”

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