Page 53 of Bourbon and Secrets

Faye

My nails grazealong his warm skin and my fingers thread through his short hair. I can’t help but grip it and pull just enough so he knows I want this. Maybe it’s the drinks from tonight or the dance we can’t seem to resist between us, but being around him clouds every judgment. It muddles memories and practically erases every and any control I might have had over this. The way he licks at my tongue and holds me tightly against him pulls a needy moan from my throat.

He smiles against my lips in response. “Feel what you’re doing to me?” he whispers.

I hum, feeling exactly what I’m doing as I roll my hips again.

He brushes his thumb along my lower lip. “Such a perfect mouth,” he says as he releases an audible breath.

I dart my tongue out and wet his finger.

And he doesn’t miss a beat. He rubs the wetness around my lips before he drags it down my chin. My body buzzes at every single small move this man makes.

“Foxx,” I breathe out and lean forward, rolling my hips again.

“That’s it,” he praises. Those two words hit me right in the panties, core fluttering with anticipation.

I fumble with his sweatshirt, trying to pry it off him. Along with it comes his t-shirt, and I’m rewarded with a thick chest with short trimmed hair and decorated with dark tattoos expanding from his right pec up to his shoulder. A twisting of words along the edge of what looks like three window panes on the inside of his bicep, only two filled in with colored ink. Cursive letters run down his side and disappear into the waistband of his pants. His skin is warm as I drag my fingers across his stomach, dipping them into the waistband. “You’re pretty, Foxx.”

He snorts. “How drunk are you right now, Peach?”

Meeting his eyes, I smile. “I’m just appreciating the view.” I look out beyond where we are. Not a single glow other than from the moon and the dimmed lights near the door. But even in the dark, I know what I’m doing. “If you’re looking for consent. You have it.”

A small laugh escapes his lips. “Is that so?” He licks his bottom lip as he toys with the hem of my sweater, running his fingers along its edge and leaving goosebumps in his wake. “I’ve wanted to touch and taste you for so long...” Dragging his fingertips up the curve of my breast, over the sweater, he pulls it down enough to see the cleavage emphasized by my bra. His touch feels like he’s cataloging curves and learning what he likes. My chest rises and falls more quickly. Hell, I need more.

I stretch the neckline down and pull at the top of my satin bra, letting my breasts pour out of it.

He rubs his hand down his face and over his mouth. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” And the approving words, ones I already know about myself, feel like a drug. I want more. He leans forward, capturing my breast in his mouth. My belly spirals and pussytingles at the way his mouth works me over. Dragging his tongue along my nipple, he moans as if they’re the kind of dessert he’s been patiently waiting for.

My mouth opens to plead for more, more, more, but the only thing to escape is a quiet, “Please.”

His approval rumbles deep in his chest.

I grind my hips down onto him, his cock nestled against my center and hitting my clit with satisfying precision. And while dry humping Lincoln Foxx wasn’t on my agenda tonight, I roll my hips again.

“Oh, fuck,” I exhale. It feels too good.

He sits back, his teeth sink into his lower lip as he watches me work myself over him. I shamelessly pull my pussy back and thrust it forward along the length of his cock, his thin cotton bottoms are the only thing separating us.Dammit, I want him.The hiss he sucks in through his teeth is enough of a reaction to urge me to do it again.

“Do you like that?” I lean forward and whisper along his lips.

He nips at my lower lip. “More than you know.” He pushes my body against his harder.

I pull my hips back again to repeat the same movement.

Grabbing both of my wrists, he holds my hands behind my back. “Look at you, so needy right now.”

I smile at his teasing tone and the way he holds my wrists with one hand behind me, the other on my hip guiding me. I arch my back and work over the thick length of him—back and forth, giving into the pressure and pace that I’m craving. I let out a gasping moan. The sight of us must be filthy and I smile thinking of it. If I wasn’t on the cusp of an orgasm, I’d want to watch him lick and savor my pebbled skin all over. I roll my hips again. The tingle that runs through my clit has my breath catching and pressure building as the feeling wraps around my limbs. A tiny vibration that starts along my edges, seeping into my skin.

His teeth drag along my neck, sparking another sensation. The sounds of his heavy exhales and the hitch of my breath are the only warnings before I’m moaning so loudly that his hand moves over my mouth, and I come so hard that my thighs quiver against his. My stomach muscles clench, pussy pulsing as my body is rewarded with the most decadent current of warmth. I’m whimpering as I tremble over his lap and wring out the last of my release, until every part of me relaxes in a daze.

I slump against his chest, his fingers drag away from my mouth and glide along my back, soothing the small tremors that follow. I’m panting. My hair is stuck along my neck and across my forehead, but I’m too wrung out to swipe it away.

“That’s twice now,” I whisper. “I’ve come twice with you, and you haven’t...”

“I very much enjoy watching you lose control,” he says with a hint of a smile in his voice as he runs his fingers down the center of my back. I nuzzle into him. I fit here so nicely that it’s hard to want to move. It’s far too intimate, but neither of us stops it from happening. Everything feels quiet after that as I sink into this for just a little longer.

It’s not until I wake up with the sound of pop rocks and arguing whispers that I realize I fell asleep on him. And he’s still here.

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