Page 119 of The Single Dad Project

He palmed her thighs, pushing them apart and giving him an unobstructed view of the swollen, glistening folds of her sex. The air in the room vibrated with lust and tension, and her scent, that vanilla-and-jasmine scent, seemed to thicken, adding a decadent perfume to the office.

If he expected her to be shy or modest, she torpedoed that notion immediately when she slid back on her desk and opened her legs wider, fully offering herself to him. Goddamn. Did she crave this as much as he did? That didn’t seem possible. But the glistening wetness on her flesh declared otherwise.

“Patrick,” she whispered, propping one hand on the desk for support and skating the other over his head, cradling the back of it. Pushing him closer to the hot, soaked center of her.

Right where he wanted to be.

He parted those pretty lower lips with a swipe of his tongue, and added a long, greedy swirl and suckle to her clit. She cried out, her back bowing in a deep arch. Her hips twisted, writhed, and he splayed the fingers of one hand across her belly and thrust his fingers inside her tight, hot sex with the other. Dipping his head, he licked the entrance even as his fingers plied her stroke after stroke.

“Goddamn, sweetheart. You’re tight. And wet.”

For him. All for him.

He worked another digit inside her, stretching her, and shifted his mouth back to her clit. The taste of her—so tart and fresh on his tongue—had lust threatening to burn him to ashes. His cock throbbed behind his zipper, demanding a sample of what his fingers and mouth enjoyed. Damn, he just needed to fist himself—just one quick tug to ease the ache. But that would require removing his hands from Brooklyn. And that, he wasn’t willing to do just yet.

He kept up a steady pump, twisting his wrist to corkscrew his fingers deeper, higher inside her core. Her soft mewls fell around him as she writhed and ground her flesh, meeting every plunge of his fingers.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he muttered against her, the sound of his fist bumping against her folds punctuating the air. Her slick walls fluttered around his fingers, signaling her impending orgasm. “Let go. Come for me.”

And in the next instant, she stiffened, a low, muted wail escaping her. He continued to thrust into her flesh, making sure she rode the wave of every aftershock. When the last shudder rippled through her body, he rose and recaptured her mouth, giving her the taste of herself. And she didn’t shy away from it. Instead, she moaned and licked at his lips, his chin. Then she claimed him in a wild, raw kiss that snapped the last ragged remnants of his control.

With trembling fingers, he tore his shirt off, and his pants and shoes followed. Her hands skated over his shoulders, his chest and belly. And as he ripped open the condom he grabbed from his wallet before tossing it to the floor, too, she fisted his dick and pumped, stroked.

Fire raced up his spine and sped back down, concentrating in his cock and balls.Holy fuck.He almost fumbled the condom as he pulled it free and tossed the foiled package in the direction of the wastebasket. He wasn’t going to make it. If she continued to jerk him off with her delicate fist and nearly brutal grip, he wouldn’t make it inside her.

Gently knocking her hand to the side, he rolled the protection down his length, and because he believed in multitasking, he leaned forward and bent his head, latching on to her nipple over the white lace.

“Oh God. Patrick.” She panted, grabbing his head with both hands, and cradling him to her.

He swirled his tongue around her nipple and sucked, and then switched breasts, giving it the same treatment. It wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough until he was buried deep inside her.

He glanced down between their bodies, and fuck. His cock appeared damn near brutish pressed against her silken, soft, beautiful folds. So goddamn beautiful, he briefly closed his eyes to block out the sight. To try and gather his fractured control.

Grinding his teeth, he slid his cock between her slick cleft, coating himself in her moisture. The head bumped her clit, and their twin moans permeated the room. His flesh jumped of its own volition, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Are you with me?” he asked, lodging the head of his dick at her opening.

As much as he just wanted to thrust home and end this torture for both of them, he hesitated. Because after this... There would be no turning back to who and what they’d been to each other. This changed everything. Before he irrevocably altered them, he needed her agreement. Her assurance.

“Sweetheart?” he urged, his voice rough, ragged from the agonized pleasure that had him in a clawed, inescapable grip. “Tell me if you’re here with me.”

She nodded, gripping his upper arms.

“I’m here.” Leaning forward, she brushed a gentle, barely there kiss over his lips. “Fuck me, Patrick.”

He thrust forward.

Sheathed all of his cock in the impossibly tight and perfect clasp of her sex.

A cry wrenched free of her, and she buried her face against his chest, her nails digging into his skin. Her muscles quivered around his cock, working to accept and accommodate him. Somehow, he held still, letting her become used to him. It just might cost him his sanity, but he waited. In the meantime, a desperate and ravenous desire twisted his belly, sizzled in the base of his back, tugged at his balls. He was going up in flames, and he wanted to burn in this fire.

“On you, sweetheart,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “Goddamn, you feel so good...”

Her harsh puffs of air battered the bare skin of his chest, but she nodded. And it was all the permission he needed.

He slowly withdrew, and she cried out. Hell, he almost did, too, as his dick dragged over the slick walls of her sex. When only the tip remaining notched inside her, he plunged back in.

Sex shouldn’t be this—fuck,gooddidn’t cover it. Couldn’t begin to describe the heaven and hell of pushing into her and feeling her sex give way for his penetration. His possession. With every stroke, every thrust, he claimed her as his. And with every ripple of her sex over him, whether she acknowledged it or not, she branded him as hers.

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