Page 105 of Attached At Heart
I had to hold in a sigh when his touch brushed between my legs.
“Need to hear you make that sound again,” he murmured, sounding dazed and barely audible above the hum of the plane.“God, the way I wanted to reach beneath your dress and touch you in that club.”
My eyelids fluttered shut as his fingers pressed harder. “Blake…”
“Fuck,” he hissed. “This is bad. This is so bad.”
“So bad,” I echoed, tilting my hips because it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t feelenoughof him. There were too many layers of clothes for me to feel him the way I wanted to.Neededto.
Blake’s breathing hitched as I began to move my own fingers again, drawing a line up his rock-hard cock. “How much longer is this flight?”
“Hours,” I groaned. “So many hours.”
“I can’t do this.”
He abruptly yanked his hand away, and I thought he was going to put a stop to whatever we’d started until he leaned back in, issuing a gruff demand in my ear.
“Bathroom. Follow me in two minutes.”
It was the longest two minutes of my life.
A different version of me might spend those two minutes trying to decide if this was really something I should be doing, but no. I didn’t have any doubt when I got up and followed Blake through the first-class cabin to the bathroom, and the only anxiety I felt was in the form of pure anticipation.
As soon as I slipped into the bathroom, Blake grabbed my hand, pulling me to the side, into him. With his other hand, he simultaneously shut and locked the door. And then his lips were on mine, and I was reeling, lost to the desperate way he was kissing me. A hot rush of desire flooded my body—an instantaneous reaction to the feeling of his mouth ruthlessly taking mine.
“This is what I wanted,” he groaned before slanting his mouth over mine and deepening the kiss further. His tongue sought mine, not even letting me respond as he stroked into mymouth, reigniting a familiar fire within me. “Your lips on mine again. You wanted it, too, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I gasped, drowning in the reality of what he’d just said.
“No more games, Delaney,” he said brusquely—almost like a demand.
“No more games,” I agreed, sounding breathless.
“There doesn’t need to be an occasion to call for this. It’s yours whenever you want. Got it?”
I nodded, eager and ready for these new rules. “Got it.”
“God, Lane,” he moaned in response, canting his hips so I felt how aroused he was. His hard length rubbed between my legs, causing a whimper to fly out of me—just like the one he’d wanted to hear. “Yes,” he hissed. “Fuck yes. Just like that. Just want to hear you make more of those sounds. Want to touch you. Feel you. Slip my fingers into your underwear like I was itching to last night. Can I? Please say yes.”
“Yes,” I consented, and within seconds, Blake had flipped me around, pressing my back against the tiny counter in the bathroom and sliding his hand into the waistband of my sweatpants. And then when he found the seam of my underwear, he slipped his fingers beneath that, too. His fingertip flirted with my clit and then dove deeper between my legs, making me gasp against his lips and grind against his hand, seeking more.
“That’s it, baby,” he praised while sinking his fingers inside me and pressing the heel of his palm against my clit. My mouth opened and closed in shock of the sensation—the immediate high. “Ride my hand and take what you want. Just let me hear you.”
“We need to be quiet,” I argued, all while I continued to rock against him like he wanted, chasing the buildup of pleasure his touch caused.
“I don’t fucking care.” Blake’s voice was hoarse, like he was hanging on by a thread. “I only care about you, Lane. Have only ever cared about you.”
He angled his hand in a way that created more pressure directly against my clit and pushed his fingers deeper inside me, and a silent scream slipped through my lips.
“Delaney.” He pushed my name out through his gritted teeth, a reprimand for keeping my sounds to myself.
“Blake,” I moaned in response, giving him what he wanted. “Oh myGod.”
“Fuck, you have no idea what it does to me to hear you say my name like that.” He licked the seam of my lips before diving into my mouth, tangling his tongue with mine for a breathless second. And then he was back to murmuring against my lips with a gritty, sinful voice. “You feel so fucking good, Lane. So wet for me. God, I want to strip you down and worship your sweet body until you’re chanting my name, begging me to let you come. But we don’t have that kind of time right now.”
“I’m already so close,” I assured him, meeting his hand with little thrusts of my hips, uncontrollably seeking more.
“I know you are.” I could feel his smile against my mouth. “Your tight little pussy is clenching around my fingers. And I love it. Love this pussy. Love when it comes for me.”
