Page 49 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

“God, I love that you’re so responsive,” he says, his voice deep and husky.

I gasp in protest when he releases my nipples, a flash of pain rippling through me.

He unbuttons my jeans and tugs them down my legs along with my underwear. I step out of them and push them to the side with my foot.

Dawson grips my chin, crushing his lips to mine in a searing kiss that leaves me breathless. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he rasps against my mouth. “Hold on tight,” he urges, lifting me back into his arms. I put my hands on his shoulders as he carries me to the bed. He gently lies me in the middle of the mattress, leaning forward to press a kiss to my forehead.

He stands beside me fully clothed, while my body is laid out on display for him—proof that he’s in control tonight. The contrast fuels the red-hot arousal racing through me, and I have the sudden urge to hear him call me his good girl again.

Dawson kneels on the bed and leans down to brush his hands up my legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. I wait with bated breath as he plants a kiss on my knee. His stubble rubs against my skin as he moves up my thigh inch by torturous inch. My legs quake with anticipation when he reaches my apex.

He slowly licks along the seam of my pussy before plunging his tongue inside. I buck my hips, grinding against his face as I grip his hair with my fists. He eagerly explores, alternating between licking and sucking. When he thrusts two thick fingers inside me, a shiver courses through my veins.

I gasp at the heat rippling through my core. “Fuck, Dawson.” I lift my hooded gaze to meet his heated stare.

“Damn, you’re fucking drenched, Red.”

I whimper, unable to find my voice, when he inserts a third finger, pumping in and out of me in a steady rhythm while massaging my clit in languid circles. My body coils tighter with each thrust, a wave of euphoria washing over me. I beg him with my eyes, a silent plea to pick up the pace.

“Come for me, angel.”

I cry out when Dawson pinches my clit between his fingers, commanding my release, and I fall apart at his touch. My head drops back against the mattress as I call out his name savoring every delicious sensation.

“I can’t wait another second to be inside you,” he rasps. “Please tell me you haven’t changed your mind.”

“Never.”

He gets off the bed and strips out of his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. I run my tongue across my lips, my eyes locked on Dawson. It’s the first time seeing him naked, his tattoos on full display. The ink on his skin is like a tapestry telling the story of who he is through bold artwork.

When he gets back on the bed, he hovers over me, silent as I explore; my fingers trail across a maze of roses with thorns winding around his right forearm, seamlessly blending in with the tail of a phoenix rising from the flames, its wings outstretched and the head resting on his shoulder.

“These are so beautiful, Dawson,” I murmur.

He lets out a shuddered breath when my fingers glide to the center of his chest where there’s a majestic lion’s head with a flowing mane. Moving to his left upper arm, my touch navigates an elaborate geometric design, shifting from intricate details to abstract shapes that lead into the scales of justice below.

My hand finally hovers over a compass on his lower forearm that was the first piece to capture my attention.

My gaze drifts to the contours of his sculpted stomach, and I lick my lips with anticipation.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I sigh dramatically, gesturing to his bare chest.

“What?” Dawson frowns, glancing down at himself.

“It’s so unfair. You’re thirty-five, and despite working around the clock, you still look like you belong on the cover of a romance novel.”

He gives me a pointed look. “Are you suggesting I’m past my prime?”

“Never.” I smirk.

“Why don’t we put it to the test?”

I’m looking forward to it.

He reaches over to the nightstand to grab a condom, ripping open the package with his teeth. Once it’s on, he grabs hold of his shaft and lines himself up with my entrance, running the tip of his dick along my seam in teasing strokes.

He kisses my forehead. “How are you doing, Red?” He restrains himself, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead as he waits for my answer.

“I want you. Now,” I beg.

---