Page 75 of Cold as Stone
He presses a kiss to my temple, his hand still stroking up and down my side like he’s grounding us both.
“You still with me?” he murmurs against my damp skin.
“Barely,” I croak. My voice is raw, shredded. I don’t even know if I’m still blinking evenly.
He chuckles, low and filthy and full of sin. “Good.”
He leans up, eyes glittering.
“Because round two?” he says, brushing his fingers between my thighs, gathering the mess and slick still clinging to me. “That’s going to be with your legs over my shoulders, your hands tied behind your back, and my cock buried so deep you’lltasteme.”
I shudder. “Please?”
Lee leans over me, eyes dark, lips parted. He looks wrecked, but not done. Not even close.
His gaze drops to the mess he’s made on me. He drags his thumb through it, slow and reverent, smearing it across my skin.
“You look so fucking good like this,” he murmurs, thumb tracing lazy circles over my hip. “You ready to head home for round two?”
I whimper, spent but still aching for more. I’m not sure I can make it without another round first.
Something in my gaze must have shown that ’cause he pauses. “You want more now?”
I nod.
“Then c’mere,” he says roughly. He shifts back and gestures to the floor between his legs.
I know exactly what he wants.
And I want it too.
I slide down from the bar, knees hitting the cool wood. He’s thick, glistening, already twitching with the promise of round two.
I lean forward and lick a slow stripe from the base to the tip of his cock.
Hehisses, hips jerking.
“Fuck, Kya?—”
“I’m just getting started,” I whisper, wrapping my lips around the head and sucking him into my mouth.
His hand tangles in my hair instantly, grip firm but careful. I suck slow and deep, using my tongue to trace along the underside, teasing that sensitive spot just beneath the crown.
He groans, low, primal. His thighs flex under my hands as I bob my head, taking more each time, letting spit drip and coat him, making it messy and filthyand oh so satisfying.
“You’re gonna make me come again if you keep that up,” he grits out.
I pull off with a pop and look up at him through my lashes.
“That’s kind of the point.”
He lets out a strangled sound—half laugh, half fuckme—then grabs me under the arms and lifts me like I weigh nothing.
“Pool table,” he growls. “Now.”
He carries me across the room, both of us still slick and panting, and sets me on the cool felt top. I lie back, legs spreading as he steps between them.
But this time… there’s no frantic edge.
