Page 36 of Dash to Me
I growl playfully. “You’re playing with fire, baby.”
“Maybe I want to get burned.”
She backs up against the wall, and I place my hands on either side of her head, caging her in. Her breath catches as I lean in close, my lips barely brushing against hers.
“Tell me what you want,” I whisper against her mouth.
“You,” she breathes. “Always you.”
I lift her up, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the desk. Papers scatter to the floor, but neither of us cares. All that matters is this—us—the way we fit together so perfectly, like we were made for each other.
I graze her inner thigh with my teeth and then grab her lace panties with them and drag them down all the way off ofher foot and they hit the ground. Seeing her glistening for me, there’s nothing like it in the world. Sure, I’ve had sex before, but nothing compares to her. It’s like my whole body erupts when she’s around. Every single touch leaves me breathless. She’s laying there just waiting to be devoured. It’s like she’s wearing a fucking sign that says eat me!
I drop to my knees, my hands gripping her hips. No time for polite kisses or gentle licks. Nope, I’m diving in like a starving man at a buffet. My tongue flattening against her, wanting her to come so hard, she’ll be begging me for another one. Her back arches off the desk, her moans echoing through the room like a fucking symphony. My tongue works her clit in tight, rhythmic circles, the sensitive bud swelling under my relentless attention. Every flick, every suck, every desperate slide of my tongue against her has her gasping my name like a prayer. I slide two fingers inside her without warning, curling them just right to hit that spongy spot that has her seeing stars. Her thighs tighten as she comes hard.
I pulled back just enough to look up at her, my lips glistening with her arousal, and whispered, “Again.” And then I dove back in, my tongue fucking her clit with a ferocity that had her clawing at the desk, her hips bucking wildly as I push her toward another mind-blowing orgasm. I’m not stopping until she is a quivering mess on this desk.
My cock is throbbing, hard as steel, straining against my pants like it is about to bust through the zipper. Okay, so maybe I can’t wait, but when I feel her almost to the edge. I grab her hips, moving her to the edge of the desk, and line my cock to her. She lets out a gasp that turns into a moan as I ease myself into her.
“You like that, don’t you? The fact that I listen to your body… give you exactly what you need… when you need it.”
She is screaming now, begging me not to stop. But I pull out, and spread her legs wide for me again. I bury my face into heragain, as her hands claw at my hair, hips bucking against my face as she comes hard, just like I want.
“I’ll get mine later. Right now, we should eat lunch before we pass out.”
“I should text you at work more often,” she murmurs.
I laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We might never get any actual work done.”
“Worth it.”
“You know,” I say, running my fingers through her hair, “when I pictured us living together, I thought it would be good. But this is something else entirely.”
She props herself up on one elbow, looking down at me with those eyes that see straight through to my soul. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s better than I imagined. Waking up with you, coming home to you... it’s like everything is just... right.”
Her smile softens. “Even when I leave my coffee mugs everywhere?”
“Even then.” I pull her closer. “Though I reserve the right to complain about it occasionally.”
Eva laughs, the sound filling the room. “Fair enough.” She pauses, her expression turning thoughtful. “You know what’s weird?”
“What’s that?”
“How not weird this is. Living together. It’s like we’ve been doing it forever.”
I nod. “That’s exactly it. There was no adjustment period. No awkward figuring out of routines. It just... works.”
“Maybe because we’ve known each other so long.”
“Or maybe because we’re perfect for each other.” I brush my thumb across her cheek.
Eva leans into my touch. “Careful, Lockwood. That sounds dangerously close to being romantic.”
“Can’t have that,” I tease, pulling her down for a kiss. “What would people think?”
She sighs against my lips. “They’d think you’re whipped.”
