Page 72 of Trashy Foreplay

And I fucking love it.

I add another finger, extracting a cry from her. “Please!”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

She studies me, her brows furrowed in curiosity, and damn, she’s sexy when she bites her lip like that. I have no shame as I pull my fingers from her pussy and use her body’s arousal to lubricate her ass. I gently push a finger into her puckered hole.

She gasps and moans at the same time, but instead of tensing upon my intrusion, she relaxes enough to accept my probing digit. Her reaction storms through me, all the way to my toes. As she arches her neck, I devour the sight of her pretty nipples pointing toward the ceiling, just begging to be licked and bitten. I lodge my finger in her ass all the way to my knuckle.

“You’re so beautiful, Jules.”

“Oh God, Cash. Please.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

I wiggle the finger I have shoved in her back door. “I am touching you.”

“More.” She’s breathless when she says it. Demands it. I love that she knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. I slip my thumb into her pussy.

Jules is exquisite perfection with her knees splayed, golden locks tousled around her flushed cheeks as I cup her by the ass and pussy. I lower my head between her thighs and open my mouth over her again.

She’s fucking mine.

27. Slip of the Tongue - Jules

Jesus fucking Christ. He’s filling me with his fingers. I tighten my thighs around his shoulders as a flood of warmth gushes toward his expert tongue. Instead of keeping his pace, he slows his intimate kiss, lightens the strokes of his tongue. I want to growl in frustration because I’m almost there.

My nails are digging into my palms. With sheer willpower, I keep them at my sides. I’ll do anything he asks at this point. For weeks now, I’ve been unable to stop the eventual tumble down this rocky mountain. Saying no to Cash is impossible.

A breeze comes in through the window, making the curtains billow above the bed. The sounds of life outside our private bubble drift to my ears from beyond that window. Footsteps and chirping birds. Quiet conversations in the alley mingling with the drone of traffic from the freeway. There’s something especially erotic about spreading my thighs for Cash, unabashed in total nakedness as his tongue and fingers push me to madness in the middle of the day.

God, do I want to touch him.

I want to come again even more.

The fact that he brings that out in me is astonishing, but when I think of how strongly I’ve reacted to him from the beginning, I wonder why I’m so surprised. Deep down, I’ve known all along that sex with him would be mind-blowing.

Life-changing.

The chemistry between us is too powerful to be denied, and right or wrong, we’ve gravitated toward each other from the beginning.

He moans against my core, and the vibrations from his mouth make me arch into him. I know I’m whimpering, despite trying to hold it back. He’s driving me fucking insane.

“You’re so close, Jules.” Kissing my inner thigh, he slides his finger out of the one place no one’s ever been before pushing in once more.

Cash is a contradiction in bed—a seductive mixture of commanding and tender, deviant and traditional. I sensed the hidden layers underneath his CEO persona. He wears those suits like armor, cloaks himself in stringent responsibility that shelters the passion raging inside him. I can’t help but wonder if his wife made him retreat into himself. Did she make him bury all of that fiery passion? Or is it a part of him that only comes out for me? I want to believe it’s the latter.

Even more, I want to forget he has a wife. I shove that elephant into the dusty warehouse of my mind and lose myself to the sensation of his lips closing around my clit, gently sucking until I’m bowing over the bed again.

“Please,” I say, moaning as I thread my fingers through his hair.

He pulls back, and his stormy gaze pins me to the mattress. “I told you not to move your hands.”

“Don’t stop.” Reluctantly, I return them to the bed.

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