Page 88 of Can't Stop Watching
"Is this—Jesus Christ—standard procedure of some kind?" I somehow joke, my voice cracking as he sucks on my clit. "Pretty sure this violates several protocols."
He doesn't bother answering with words. Instead, he slides two fingers inside me while his tongue keeps up its relentlessattack. The combination has my eyes rolling back, pleasure building so intense I might actually die from it.
My world shrinks to just his mouth, his fingers, and the insane tension coiling tighter in my belly. I'm making noises that would normally mortify me, but right now I couldn't care less.
"Dane," I gasp, yanking uselessly at my restraints. "I'm—fuck—I'm"
Dane abruptly pulls away, leaving me gasping and disoriented, my body pulsing with need. The bastard just took me right to the edge and stopped.
"What the actual..." I start, but the words die in my throat as he rises to his full height, towering over me. His lips shine with my arousal, and the sight is so erotic I nearly combust on the spot.
His eyes are dark storms as he reaches for the neckline of my dress. There's a question in them—one last check—and I give him the slightest nod.
With one powerful movement, he tears my dress down the middle. The ripping sound echoes in the room as the fabric gives way, exposing me completely. Cool air hits my naked skin, and I gasp, equal parts shocked and turned on beyond belief. My nipples harden to points.
"God," I breathe, my voice barely audible.
"No bra either," he says, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that makes my insides liquify. "You aim to please. Good girl."
Those two words from Dane's lips… God, I love his praise.
"You're perfect," he murmurs, hands ghosting over my bare skin without actually touching me. The anticipation is torture. "Exactly how I've imagined you. At my complete mercy." His gaze is ravenous, like he wants to memorize every inch of me.
My nipples harden further under his stare, and I arch my back slightly, offering myself to him. The movement makes the handcuffs rattle.
"Are you going to just look," I challenge, finding my voice, "or are you planning to do something about this situation?"
He steps closer until his fully clothed body presses against my naked one. The contrast—him still dressed in his button-up and slacks while I'm completely exposed—makes me feel even more vulnerable.
"Oh, I have plans," he whispers against my ear, his breath making me shiver. "Very specific plans for every inch of you."
His hand slides up to cup my breast, thumb circling my nipple with just enough pressure to make me moan.
"And we're just getting started."
"Your tits," he growls, "are fucking exquisite." There's something almost reverential in how he touches me, despite the roughness in his voice. "Perfect size, perfect shape." He gives them a gentle squeeze. "Perfect for my hands."
I try for a sarcastic response, but all that comes out is a gasp when he pinches both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, applying just enough pressure to teeter on that delicious edge between pleasure and pain.
"Jesus," I hiss through clenched teeth.
"You like that?" He twists slightly, making me arch against my restraints.
"What gave it away?" I somehow manage to joke, the words dissolving into a moan when he bends down to replace one hand with his mouth.
The hot, wet suction of his lips around my nipple sends lightning straight between my legs. His tongue circles, flicks, then he sucks hard enough to make my head fall back again. Holy fuck, I might actually die here, handcuffed to this man's doorway.
"Your tits are incredible," he murmurs against my skin, switching to lavish attention on my other breast. "Been worshiping them since I first saw you behind that bar."
The mental image of Dane sitting at The Old Haunt, secretly fantasizing about my chest while I mixed drinks is so absurdly hot I feel another rush of wetness between my thighs.
His hands slide down my sides, over my hips, down my legs, until he's gripping my ankles. The journey of his touch leaves goosebumps in its wake. I'm expecting him to stand back up, to continue his torturous exploration of my body, but instead he stays down.
Oh, God.
I watch as Dane settles between my spread legs, his broad shoulders forcing them even wider apart. The position is obscenely exposing. I love the sight of Dane Wolfe on his knees before me.
"You're soaked," he says, his voice thick with want, then his mouth is on me again, tongue flattening against my center in a single broad stroke that has me seeing stars. This time there's nothing gentle or exploratory about it. He devours me with a brutal pace, his tongue relentless as two fingers thrust inside, curling to hit that perfect spot that makes my entire body jerk.
