Page 53 of How to Lose a Pack in 10 Dates

“Liar.I can smell it on you,” he growls. “Even through the blockers. You’re dying for it, and you’re trying so hard to pretend you’re not.”

He pushes my shorts up slightly, fingers slipping under the waistband. He keeps watching my face in the mirror.

“Say stop,” he says again. “And I will.”

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. His smirk grows sharper and his fingers press in lower, finally dragging across the soaked cotton between my thighs.

“You’resoaked,” he murmurs. “And you’restilltrying to act like you’re not mine?”

I moan, and my knees buckle. He catches me easily, one strong arm wrapping around my waist, the other already sliding between my thighs.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “I love the way you try to pretend you're not desperate.”

I should stop this. I should push him away. After all, we'rein his place of work.

Instead, I grind back against him, chasing the pressure and panting.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, mouth at my ear, fingers finally slipping past the edge of my shorts. “Now let’s see if I can make you scream my name louder than the first time.”

Jace drops to his knees behind me, his bare chest flushed and gleaming with sweat, his darkened eyes locked on mine through the reflection. He plants his palms on the insides of my thighs and eases them open, spreading my legs wider.

“Jace,” I gasp, apparently unable to form a coherent sentence.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, his eyes still meeting mine through the mirror. “You gonna beg?”

I don’t answer. I'm utterly mesmorized as I watch him lean in close andmoanagainst the seam of my shorts.

I swear I forget how to breathe as he presses his mouth right there, his hot breath soaking through the damp fabric. I nearly collapse forward again.

“Sweet fucking Omega,” he mutters. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and drags them down in one smooth motion, my panties caught in the same sweep. The fabric drops to my ankles, and suddenly I’m bare from the waist down, bent over right in front of his face, every inch of me exposed and glistening.

I feel the weight of his stare before I even lift my head. A low, guttural groan punches from his chest, and IswearI feel it right between my legs.

“Fuck,Aimee,” he breathes. “You’re—”

He doesn’t even finish the sentence; just exhales sharply through his nose. One of his hands moves to grip my hip while the other dips between my legs, his thick fingers spreading me open with obscene tenderness, thumb dragging through my slick. His eyes meet mine in the reflection and stay there.

“Oh, babe,” he whispers. “You’redripping.”

“Shut up,” I gasp, heat flaring to my face.

“Not a fucking chance. Not when you’re this fucking wet for me.”

And then his mouth isonme.

He presses in with a full, possessive swipe from the slick heat of my entrance all the way up to the swollen peak of my clit. Hiseyes flutter closed while his tongue drags again, slower this time, and his grip on me tightens.

He’sfeasting. There’s nothing restrained about it: every lick is full of intent, every suck messy, every pass of his tongue a slow, devastating drag meant to claim. His stubble scrapes the backs of my thighs, and his nose presses flush to the cleft of my ass.

He groans and shifts lower, tilting my hips in his grip and spreading me wider.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Look at this perfect fucking pussy. You know how good you taste, baby?”

I watch with blown-out eyes as his tongue dips between the curve of my ass and the tight pucker there.

He doesn’t stop: hestays.

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