Page 37 of Tide of Treason
The sharp rip of nylon split the air.
His free hand had gone exploring, and now the pantyhose I’d spent an hour coaxing up my hips were in tatters, shredded open by the same man who’d threatened to make me an urban legend fifteen minutes ago. A warm hand cupped my bare ass. Squeezed it. My thighs tried to trap his wrist when he dragged the flimsy string of my thong lower, this time across my clit in a drawn-out tease, rolling it between his knuckles until my whole body buzzed.
I was embarrassingly wet. Lucius knew it when his fist tightened in my hair, fucked my throat as though he had a point to make, cursed in Portuguese while he pumped hot and thick onto my tongue.
Lifting my head, the first thing I noticed besides the fact we were no longer moving was that my dress had ridden up to my hips. A mortifying revelation, considering I wasn’t the kind of woman who found herself disheveled unless Iwantedto be. Lace pressed damp against my inner thigh. I felt wrecked. Which, apparently, was a look he appreciated, if the slow drag of his gaze was anything to go by.
I wiped the corner of my mouth with my thumb, then slid it over my tongue just to see his jaw tighten. His belt clicked into place, shoulders falling against the seat in a slow sprawl of sweat-damp relaxation. He reached for his tie. Yanked it loose neck with one impatient pull. His strong throat gleamed with sweat, and, damn it all, I’d never seen impending cardiac arrest look sexier.
But, priorities. I had to know. “The car’s in park?”
A lazy nod.
I drew my bottom lip between my teeth, let my gaze drift to the evidence of how worked-up I was, and exhaled through my nose. “You’re cleaning that up.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmm.”
Lucius caught on immediately. The amusement in his eyes faded to pleasure. Heat. Something soaked in intensity and satisfaction. One push of a button, and the seat slid backward.
“Sit on my face.”
I . . .
This was getting ridiculous.
“You just sucked me off in a moving car, Kayla. Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”
The seat creaked in agreement. Before I could so much as tighten my thighs, strong hands banded around my hips and lifted me as if I was weightless. My dress hiked higher, baring the mess Lucius had made of me, and just as I considered protesting, his mouth was there.
Hot.
Wet.
Ravenous.
I cursed. Bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The breath I’d planned to exhale lodged in my throat when he sealed his mouth to my clit in a way that made me see the inside of my skull. Pressing my palms to the car’s ceiling, I lifted just enough to regain some semblance of dignity. Mistake. His arm lockedaround my waist, dragging me right back down, and—
Oh.
I saw stars. Or hell. Hard to tell the difference.
“Fuck—” I exhaled, fighting the pull of pleasure in my belly.
His laugh was muffled by the next slow, indulgent lap of his tongue, dragging from entrance to clit, flattening the wet muscle and pressing deep. Every flick of his tongue was a line of poetry scrawled over my nerve endings, stanzas made of filth and fever. When I bucked against his face, a darkmmmvibrated between my legs.
“Lucius,” I moaned. He ignored me.
Which led me to a question I really should not be thinking about at this moment.
Had he done this to her?
Was that why he shaved?
I didn’t like stubble either, but it wasn’t something that made me reach for the nearest razor. Viviana, on the other hand . . . I’d caught her wrinkling her nose at men with beards on more than one occasion, rolling her eyes when our papà brought another one of his cigar-smoking associates to the table.
I clenched my teeth, thighs tensing around Lucius’s head.
