Page 94 of Frosting and Flames

“Oh, fuck, yes.” My response slips out unbidden, my hips thrusting up without my meaning to, but she seems to like it.

She kisses me once more then slides off my lap, pushing the coffee table back to make more room as she kneels on the floor in front of me. It’s the same as I imagined the other night with her on her knees, and a shiver runs over me. I didn’t think that wish would come true so soon.

She places her hands on my knees, widening them as she moves into the space. My breathing picks up as she moves lightly up my thighs, toward where my dick is straining to be let out, and a groan escapes me at first contact as she rubs me over my jeans. Even through the thick denim, I can’t get enough of her touch.

Her fingers make quick work of the button and fly, and I help her tug them down, my boxers doing little to conceal how much I want her. She finds the flap, pulling me out, and I bite my lip to hold back the curse that wants to run free.

Her gaze is… primal. There’s no other way to describe it. And as her delicate fingers wrap around my length, pumping up and down, I feel like I’m having an out of body experience. That this isn’t actually happening to me. That my dream girl doesn’t have her hands on my dick, looking excited like she wants to do more.

She strokes me from base to tip, working me up, then moves forward to lick the head gently. All rational thought flees my mind, the baser part of me taking over.

“Yes, baby,” I murmur, sliding a hand through her hair. “That feels so fucking good.”

I watch her play with my cock, barely breathing for fear she’ll stop. That I’ll wake from this fantasy. But as she envelops me in her mouth, her tongue exploring me further, a fresh wave of lust rises within me, roaring to the surface.

I groan again, and she makes this sound of satisfaction deep in the back of her throat that ratchets up my enjoyment more.

“You’re going to make me come before we’ve even gotten started,” I murmur, my grip tightening in her hair.

She releases me, looking up with a devilish smile on her lips. “Did you want me to stop?” Her hand passes over me lightly, making me strain toward her.

“You know I don’t.”

She takes the tip in her mouth, sucking, and my head drops back against the couch, unable to watch anymore. She looks so sexy doing that, and I don’t want to come too soon. I’ve been waiting for this for too long.

Even so, I have to grip the throw pillow next to me, bracing myself as she takes more of me into her mouth, the suction incredible, until she can’t take any more. I soak in every sensation, her talented mouth building me up over long minutes until I fear I might burst with the amount of lust coursing through my veins.

I peek down, the sight of my cock disappearing inside that beautiful mouth more than I was prepared for, and embrace the sudden zing down my spine.

“I’m so close,” I whisper, stroking my thumb over her jaw, loving the flex and release of it as she sucks me off.

She hums a happy sound, and I let myself go, coming in her mouth in a rush of pleasure. Her hands move to my thighs, gripping me, and I revel in the sweet sting of her nails as my body shudders with relief.

When I’m finished, she releases me slowly, wiping at her lips, and something about the action has a surge of possessiveness running through me. I want to claim her with my mouth, too. To discover if she sounds different when I make her come with my tongue versus my fingers. To find out how good she’ll taste.

She watches me with big eyes as I pick her up and take her into her bedroom, tossing her on the bed.

“My turn.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

RACHEL

I’m already a quivering mess, and Nick hasn’t even touched me yet.

The way he’s looking at me is… hungry. Like I’m one of the desserts in my bakery he loves so much.

And he’s going to gobble me up.

“Will you take off your shirt?” I blurt out, saying the first thought in my head. I still haven’t seen him shirtless and with all this unspent desire racing through me, my normal filter is gone.

“If I can take off yours,” he says easily, pulling his shirt over his head.

His muscles shift and contract, showcasing his hard body, with a broad chest and heavy pecs. His biceps look even thicker without sleeves to hide them, his tattoo on display. Further down, his abs are outlined but not overly exaggerated. He doesn’t have showy gym muscles, but the kind earned from hard work, proven by the way he easily carried me in here, as if I weighed nothing.

I sit up, leaning toward him where he stands at the end of the bed, resting my hands on his shoulders. They travel down over at that hard chest, slipping over each indentation of his abs, and then to the broad planes of his back. My fingers slide over the occasional ridge of a scar, further proof of the work he does and how dangerous it can be. But it makes me even more appreciative to have him now.

Nick’s watching me explore his torso, but I can’t quite interpret the look on his face. There’s enjoyment for sure, but also something else. Like he’s waiting. Letting me have my fun, and then it’s his turn.

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