Page 59 of Must Have Been Love

Ashis tongue starts to trail across my skin.

He kisses my hipbone, my stomach, then slowly drags his lips up to the swell of my breasts. There’s a deep rumble in his throat as he kisses each one in turn.

“Gonna dream of these,” he mutters against my skin.

“In your bed,” I manage to gasp as he closes his mouth around my nipple.

He chuckles against me, then lashes his tongue and my eyes just about roll into the back of my head. I reach down, running my nails over his scalp and he groans in response.

This is happening. I’m going to have bedless sex with Hudson Fitzgerald and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.

I’m splayed out on the table and he’s standing in front of me, my legs hooked around his shoulders as he teases my body. It’s awkward and it’s hot and right now I’m reconsidering my requirement about no beds.

And then he pulls me toward him and kisses me softly and I remember why I made it in the first place.

This man would be so easy to fall for. I know it’s an abrupt change in direction after all my hatred of him, but I didn’t know him then. I do now. I know his favorite childhood memory. I know how fiercely he loves those he’s closest to.

I know he’d do anything for them. It touches me so hard that I can feel my heart already aching.

“Take your pants off,” I tell him, needing him to be as naked as me.

“Need to make you come first,” he tells me.

“I think that’s a pretty foregone conclusion.” I’m practically vibrating here, without any form of energy except the desire his mouth is creating as he kisses me hard, his thumbs brushing over my nipples before he moves his hand lower, sliding it underneath the elastic of my panties.

“Fuck, you’re wet.”

“It’s your fault.” I’m getting a cricked neck from leaning up to kiss him. And he’s so damn awkward as he leans over me. Yet pleasure is radiating from my body every time he brushes his thumb over my clit.

“Pants off,” I say again, tugging at them this time, my fingers unbuckling his belt to slide the tailored wool over his hips. His cock is jutting out from his boxers, the head thick and swollen as it escapes from his waistband. I curl my hand around him, my thumb brushing him. “You’re wet too,” I murmur as he kicks his pants across the floor.

“Your fault,” he replies, brushing the hair away from my face. “Last chance,” he says. “Sure you wouldn’t like to take this to a bed?”

I would, I really would. But I’m stubborn and I’m turned on and I’m kind of liking the way he’s so desperate to get me horizontal. I want him to remember tonight for a long, long time.

So I push him away, then slide off the table to my feet, before dropping to my knees. I look up at him, my eyelashes sweeping over my face.

His lips part as I pull his shorts down, a soft breath escaping them as I curl my fingers around his thick, stiff excitement. I push my tongue out, slowly circling it around him and he groans.

“Sky…”

I slide my mouth over him as he grunts out my name, tasting his warmth, feeling his fingers tangle into my hair. All suggestions of beds and bad backs disappear as I move my lips over his skin, my tongue flicking as he almost escapes my mouth, before I engulf him once more.

It only takes a minute for his breath to turn ragged. I love the way I’m on my knees, yet I feel so in control. This huge, muscled man has his eyes trained on me as I look up at him, sucking him, teasing him.

Then I flutter my tongue against his head and he lets out a growl. Before I can swallow him down again, he’s leaning down, lifting me up onto the table once more, pushing me back so I’m splayed out on the surface and he’s the one on his knees, his stubble scraping my thighs as he parts them with his face, burying it between them.

Dear God, this man knows how to make me squirm. His tongue is weaving some kind of black magic against my clit as he slides a finger inside of me, making me arch my back against the table.

And yes, it’s hard and cold and I’d so much rather it be a bed, but this is pretty damn hot, being ravished in an empty bar.

He slides a second finger inside, murmuring in approval as I tighten around him, pleasure coiling deep inside my body, ready to explode. He pulls my clit between his lips, sucking, flicking with his tongue, and then he scrapes me with his teeth and I’m done.

“Hudson!” My eyes widen as the strongest orgasm I’ve felt in my life overtakes me. My hands clutch at the air, my body convulses, my breath escapes in little torn up bursts, as he carries on plundering me with his mouth.

“You have to stop,” I manage to get out. “You’re going to kill me.”

I’m only half joking. I read about a woman who couldn’t stop orgasming. It seems like a dream, but it turned into a nightmare pretty quick. She’d go to the grocery store and collapse in a pile of goo while disapproving old ladies expressed disappointment.

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