Page 48 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
He withdraws his fingers slowly, soaked and glistening, and brings them to my lips. “Bite down on these.”
My breath catches, but I part my lips without question. His fingers press past, sliding over my tongue, and I moan before I even realize I’ve made a sound.
The taste is heady. Sharp with arousal, rich and earthy beneath it. My scent is strong, impossible to ignore, but there’s something unexpectedly sweet layered in, like dark vanilla left too long in the sun. It coats my tongue, addictive, like something forbidden I shouldn’t crave.
But I do.
My cheeks flush hot as I suck around his fingers, my own flavor mingling with the salt of his skin. I shouldn’t find this hot. I shouldn’t be so turned on by tasting myself from his hand.
But I’m drenched. Burning. Hungry for more.
And the low, filthy groan he makes when he sees me suck harder?
That sound alone nearly tips me over the edge again.
And then he’s back on me, tongue rough andrelentless as he sucks my clit into his mouth, hard. I gently bite down, just like he told me to, barely muffling the scream that rips from my throat as my orgasm detonates like a firestorm.
I convulse.
Every muscle locks and then breaks loose. I shake violently, legs threatening to give, and he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even pause. He licks me through it, holding me up with his hand on my thigh, his tongue claiming every last pulse and tremor until I’m wrecked.
Completely destroyed.
My head falls back against the mirror with a soft thud, breath coming in broken gasps, and I swear my soul might’ve left my body.
But he’s still there, between my thighs, licking over the seam of my pussy lips, eyes wild with something raw and possessive.
“Sweetest damn thing I’ve ever devoured,” he whispers.
Then he slowly rises from where he’s kneeling, a man in no rush to let go of what just passed between us. He merely stares at me. Then his hands cradle my jaw, tilting my face up as his mouth descends.
His kiss is deep. Devouring. His lips seal over mine with a hunger that melts every bone in my body. There’s no softness now, no hesitance, just possession and the kind of need that makes you forget your own name.
When he finally pulls back, breath ragged, I’m trembling again for an entirely different reason.
“That was…” I swallow, voice catching. “That was incredible.”
A slow smile curls his lips. “I don’t do halfway, darlin’.”
But the high starts to slip. Doubt creeps in at the edges of my mind, fast and sharp and unwelcome.
“It might’ve been a mistake,” I whisper. The words feel like sandpaper in my throat.
Walker doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look away. “I don’t think so,” he states. “When you find your scent match, you claim her. And if she’s not ready to be claimed…” His thumb brushes my bottom lip. “Then I wait. For as long as you need.”
“God,” I breathe, stepping back, heart jackhammering. “Why do you have to be so… you? So perfect. So damn sexy. So everything.”
A flicker of darkness passes through his gaze.
“We have time to deal with this stuff later, right?” I joke, but it comes out thin.
Walker doesn’t laugh. He sees too much. Feels too much.
I look away. “Well, I’d better get changed.”
My hands fumble to pull my dress back down, heat flushing my face. I grab my underwear off the floor and fist it in my palm. “I just need to go to the bathroom real quick,” I mumble, already turning.
“I’ll pay for the clothes,” he says. “All of ’em. Youjust breathe.” His voice follows me as I slip past the curtain.
