Page 48 of Release Me
‘I have a talented mouth, and I’m about to prove it.’ I position my hands under her taut, tanned thighs and tug until her backside is balancing at the edge of the couch.
She squeals in surprise, her champagne sloshing over her fabulous tits. My tongue is on them in seconds, licking up every drop, inhaling the scent of her skin and committing every inch of it to memory. I nudge her legs wider with my shoulders and stare at the wonder of her gorgeous, glistening cunt. Fuck. She’s beautiful.
I dip my face between her thighs and run my tongue over the length of her slit without breaking eye contact. ‘You taste sublime.’
‘Fuck.’ Her hips jolt upwards and more champagne goes flying.
I trail my tongue upwards to meet the trickling over her stomach and then make my way down again, this time flicking over her clit. She jolts again, and I snigger as the remainder of her champagne spills. I lick it up again, as our eyes burn into each other.
She tosses her empty glass to the other side of the couch. ‘This is the best day of my life,’ she pants, as I thrust my tongue into her core, then roll it upwards again. She grinds her pussy against my face, one hand raking through my hair. Nails scratch my scalp as her quads begin to shake and her green eyes glaze with lust.
I pause from fucking her with my tongue long enough to say, ‘Touch your tits for me, sweetheart.’
I watch as her fingers slide over her stomach to pinch her nipples. She stares at me with those lust hued eyes, her breath coming in ragged pants now. She’s close. And I’m determined to catapult her over the edge. Catching her clit in my mouth, I tease it slowly with my tongue. She moans and wriggles beneath me. When I suck, she screams in ecstasy. Satisfaction soars through my soul.
‘Rian. Rian. Rian.’ She bucks against my face like a wild animal, riding through her release. It occurs to me then, it might have been a while since she had one. I’m going to need to give her a gift she can keep here. One she can think of me when she uses it.
‘Oh. My. God.’ She moves her hands from my hair to cover her face. Her cheeks are flaming. I pull them away so I can see her.
‘Don’t hide from me.’
‘I can’t believe you did that.’ Her arms flop back above her head.
‘Why?’
She glances at the floor, then the ceiling, then finally her eyes drift to meet mine again. Her voice is low when she answers. ‘Because no one has ever done that to me before.’
Her husband is a bigger dick than I even imagined.
‘How is that even possible?’ I pull her down until she’s straddling me. My cock is straining so hard to get inside her, but I refuse to go there today. I might never recover if I do. I place my hands on her waist, steadying her, stroking my thumbs over her flesh. ‘If you were mine, I’d wake you up like that every morning.’
She throws her head back and laughs. A real laugh. One that warms my insides all the way to my bones. ‘You know, who needs a publishing house anyway, right?’
‘My thoughts exactly.’
Who needs a best friend either?
Or a family, for that matter?
Because any of the above get wind of what occurred this afternoon—I won’t have anyone but her.
‘Let’s get another drink,’ she starts to wiggle from my lap.
‘Oh, I plan to,’ I grin, and reach between her legs again.
Chapter Twenty
REBEKKA
I’ve never had as many orgasms in my life, and we didn’t even have sex. My muscles are limp and my legs feel like I’ve run a marathon, but I’m happier tonight than I have been in years. Three years, specifically. I stare through the moonlight at the man stretched out in my bed. He finally agreed to take his shirt and suit trousers off. Unfortunately, or fortunately for my conscience, his black fitted Calvin Klein boxers remain firmly in position.
His hand cradles the back of his head as he sprawls halfway beneath my Egyptian cotton sheets. There’s a good chance I’m never washing them again. His eyes are closed, and I take a minute to memorise this moment. Dark stubble dusts his strong, square jawline. Huge sculpted shoulders silently brag about all the gym work he must do. The curve of his bicep is so pronounced it makes me want to run my tongue over it. A smattering of dark hair peeks from his armpits, begging me to bury my face in there and inhale his raw masculine scent.
Is that weird? Wanting to sniff a man’s armpit? Heisthe most attractive creature to grace God’s green earth.
It’s not weird—it’s love—a tiny voice whispers inside of me.
Oh no.
