Page 59 of Knot So Fast
He grins, all teeth.
“You’re right.” His fingers start moving again, slower this time, teasing. “But you’re still going to be punished.”
And holy hell does he mean it.
He drags his fingers almost all the way out, leaving only the tips inside, then slams them back so hard and deep I nearly slide off the counter. I jerk, gasp, hips bucking up for more, and he sets a rhythm so relentless it wipes all snark from my brain.I can barely keep up, every thrust hitting exactly where I’m most sensitive, building and building without giving me space to breathe.
Just as I’m about to crest again, he pulls his fingers out entirely.
I actually scream.
It’s not even a word, just a sound of pure, furious, blue-balled betrayal.
Lachlan doesn’t flinch. He just stands there, slick fingers glistening in the light, a slow smile crawling across his face as he watches me thrash for purchase.
“You asshole,” I gasp, “what the fuck?—”
He lifts my legs by the knees, spreading me wide open on the island.
Then, in one fluid motion, he buries his face between my thighs.
I can’t even pretend to be mad after that.
His tongue is everywhere, hot and clever and relentless, lapping up every drop of slick and then chasing more, refusing to give me even a split second of relief. He sucks my clit between his lips and flicks it until I’m arching off the counter, grabbing at the edge for dear life, the marble leaving indentations in my palms as I hold on.
He moans into me—actually moans, like this is a gourmet meal and he’s dying to devour every last bite—and the vibration sends me over the edge with terrifying speed.
It’s not a gentle orgasm this time.
It’s a tsunami, ripping through me so violently my vision whites out, my ears ring, my whole body tenses until it feels like I’ll break in half.
My legs slam closed around his head, and I think I might suffocate him, but he just keeps going, hands locked around my thighs, pulling me even closer, refusing to let up.
And then, impossibly, I feel another one building right on top of the first.
I’m sobbing his name now, or maybe just making helpless animal noises, and he’s eating it up—literally. The slick between my legs has turned to full-on flood, and I have a split-second to realize what’s about to happen before I’m squirting straight into his mouth.
He groans with delight, drinking it down, licking every drop off my skin like it’s his life’s purpose.
“God, you taste even better than I remember,” he mutters, voice muffled against my core.
If I had the motor control, I’d insult him for being a pervert.
But I’m too busy riding out another wave of pleasure as he hooks my ankles over his shoulders and tongue-fucks me so deep I see stars again. I can barely breathe. I can barely move.
All I can do is hold on as he wrings every last spasm out of me, my body shuddering uncontrollably until I collapse boneless on the counter.
He finally relents, lips trailing up my body, kissing my stomach, my ribs, my sternum.
Each press is a little softer than the last, a gradual climb-down from the insanity of before. He nuzzles at my neck, kisses the place just below my jaw where he knows I’m most sensitive. I feel the brush of his teeth, then the gentle suction as he gives me a hickey I’ll be wearing for days.
He holds there for a moment, breathing me in, and then I hear the words, almost too soft for the world to deserve.
“I missed this,” he says, voice muffled against my pulse. “Missed you. Missed the way you smell when you’re like this—so fucking alive, so real.”
It knocks the wind out of me.
For a second, I don’t know what to say. My brain is scrambled, my body is ruined, and my heart is doing weirdthings I don’t want to analyze right now. So I do what I always do when things get too heavy—I crack a joke.
