Hendrix (Raleigh Raptors 3) - Page 24

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My grip tightened on her curves, my control slipping. What the hell was wrong with me? Where was my infamous restraint? My impeccable timing? I was two seconds away from pawing at her like a teenager. That’s how desperate I was for her.

“Please,” she repeated, her plea wore me down like nothing else could.

I couldn’t do that to her—make her first time some backroom tryst on a damned desk. But I could take her edge off, give her a glimpse of what we’d have together.

“You want me to touch you, Savannah?” I asked, my hands falling to her thighs, my thumbs grazing the scrap of silk between them.

“God, yes.” She clutched my shoulders, her breath catching with every pass of my thumb.

Fuck, she was beautiful, her eyes hazy and her lips swollen from my own. Yeah, I could do this for her. Sure, I might have to sink my dick into a vat of ice water, but if there was plenty of something around here, it was ice. I’d survive.

Unwilling to let her go for even a second, I shifted my hands and lifted her by the backs of her thighs, then walked around the desk and sat her on the opposite side, giving her every opportunity to change her mind.

Then I sat her on the surface and tugged her skirt over the curve of her ass.

She gasped as her bare skin hit the desk.

I grinned and sank into the office chair before her, my hands on her knees. I held her gaze as I spread her open, then gripped her ass and tugged her to the edge of the desk, delighting in the flare of surprise in her eyes. If I’d been more patient, I would have taken her somewhere private—somewhere I could strip her bare.

But for now, this would have to do.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” I promised, sliding my hands up her thighs.

“I want this.” Her breaths came faster.

“You don’t even know what this is yet.” If she felt half of what I did, she’d run.

“I know it’s with you,” she whispered as my fingers reached the line of her thong.

“Yeah, it is.” I dipped beneath the fabric and found her wet and slick as I stroked her from entrance to clit. “Fuck, Savannah.”

“Hendrix,” she moaned, rocking her hips against my hand.

“You’re so damned wet I could take you right here,” I grazed her clit with my thumb, and my cock throbbed with the beat of my pulse.

“Kiss me,” she begged, her fingers tunneling through my hair.

“Good idea,” I muttered, hitting the lever of the chair with my free hand so I fell to eye-level with her pussy. I slid my head between her thighs, pulled the fabric of her thong aside and kissed her.

She cried out, her grip edging that line between pleasure and pain in my hair.

Fuck me, she tasted incredible—sweet and bright with a hint of salt. She slid down my throat like warm honey as I licked her in long, slow laps, ending each one with a swirl of my tongue around her swollen clit.

“Oh. My. God.” She fell back slightly on her palms, opening even wider, moaning with each swipe and stroke of my tongue, her hips rolling, chasing that friction I knew she needed.

“I could stay here all night. Damn, Savannah. You’re exquisite.”

She whimpered in reply.

I flicked my tongue over her clit, and that whimper became my name. I had her in my mouth, and yet it wasn’t enough. I needed more. Needed everything—at least what I was willing to take tonight.

I licked into her, then strummed her clit with my thumb as I stabbed deeper. She was so fucking tight that I felt her walls close around my tongue.

“Hendrix!”

That was exactly how I wanted her to say my name for the rest of my life. That pitch. That cry. That need. I fucked her with my tongue as her thighs tightened, her muscles locked. She was close, and I was in heaven. Everything about her turned me on, got me harder, sent my pulse skyrocketing.

“Let go, baby.” I moved back to her clit and sucked it between my teeth, lashing it with my tongue.

She came with another scream, muffling it slightly as I worked her through it and into a second orgasm a few moments later. It wasn’t that I was being generous—I was fucking addicted to her taste, her scent, the sound of her cries. She shuddered, and her muscles went limp.

I kissed the little tattoo on her inner thigh, then let her thong fall back into place as I rose from the chair and took her face in my hands.

“That mouth,” she whispered, her heavy-lidded gaze falling to my lips.

I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and groaned at the taste of her, fighting back the very real urge to say fuck it and take her right there on the desk. But even if I was that much of an asshole—which I wasn’t, it would end there. I wanted all night.


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Raleigh Raptors Romance
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