Page 46 of Last Shot at Love

“Should I read it?” Timothy asked.

“Please. Go ahead.” Her words were stilted, but he didn’t appear to notice.

Her fingers tightened in my hair, and she shifted her hips, making it clear she wasn’t talking to him… but to me.

As Timothy began reading about stock options, I pressed my mouth harder against her. I sucked the strip of fabric into my mouth, determined to get every drop of her sweetness from it.

Beryl’s hand trembled, a delightful sign of the effect I was having on her. Wrapping a tentacle around her waist, I lifted her just enough to slip the thong over her hips and under her butt.

My eyes followed them as I worked them down her legs. Once they fell from her ankles, I pulled them off.

Mine. The beast snatched her thong with a wandering tentacle.

That could be a problem, because Beryl wasn’t likely to get them back without fighting him for them.

I slid my tongue along the length of her slit, and my eyes instantly rolled back. She’d tasted incredible on my suckers, but it paled in comparison to tasting with my mouth.

Beryl would be lucky if she ever managed to pry me from between her legs… I was an octopus, which meant I definitely had the advantage when it came to suction power.

“It’s the wording of that sentence that worries me.” Timothy reread a sentence. “I just don’t want anyone to get screwed because of this deal.”

I hummed in amusement at his choice of words. The vibrations traveled from where my mouth was pressed to Beryl’s slick heat, and traveled through her body.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, then turned it into a breathy laugh. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

Her fingers clicked across the keys. “I’ll make a note to clarify the wording on that clause to ensure there is no misunderstanding.”

As she spoke, her hips rocked a fraction against my mouth. My heart swelled at that sexy little confirmation of her enjoyment.

Beryl broke down the clause with a simplistic explanation that was both elegant and concise. It amazed me how she simplified many of the complicated terms while not making the other party seem stupid.

Her unbreakable professionalism was impressive. Even with my tongue delving inside her, lapping and sucking, she kept her voice steady.

If it hadn’t been for the way one of her hands moved back beneath the desk to tangle in my hair, or the way her tight channel clenched around my tongue, I would have thought she was unaffected.

“Are there any other questions or concerns you’d like to go over?” Beryl asked. “Or perhaps you have other business to attend to and we should pick this up later?”

I couldn’t help my soft chuckle at the almost hopeful note in her voice. Her body responded to my rumble with another wash of cream.

“Now that I have you, I don’t plan to let you go,” Timothy laughed, and there was no way to miss the flirting in his tone.

We need to mount our mate. Mark her so the male will back off, my beast snarled.

I wanted to remind him that it was called making love, not mounting, but I couldn’t find those words… because a primal part of me wanted to do exactly as he suggested.

Beryl might not wear my mark on her skin, and I might not wear hers, but on paper—and more importantly, in my soul—she was mine.

And I wanted to remind her of that.

I pulled my mouth away, and without preamble, thrust my tentacle into her heat. On instinct, Beryl’s legs tried to close, but I curled two tentacles around her thighs and held them apart.

I held the tentacle inside her still, giving her time to adjust.

“We have a couple more minutes. Which clause should I flip to next?” Beryl asked Timothy, once again ignoring his suggestive comment.

She was wrong.

Because if she thought she would last a couple more minutes before falling apart on my tentacle, she’d definitely miscalculated.

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