Flynn

Weeks of pent-up desire rises to the surface.

Along with other things.

To be fair, that’s been risen for a while. Since I saw her outside Gramercy Park. Hey, my woman gives me wood. It’s just the way it is. She makes me happy too, and I couldn’t be more thrilled that she’s taking a chance with me.

Now though? I’m ready to give her something else she needs, something I need too.

Connection.

The second the door clicks shut, I nibble on her neck. Her arms are still wrapped tight around me. I whisper in her ear, “You like it when I take over, right?”

“I do,” she whispers, so husky and sexy. I reach for her hands, removing them from my neck. I drop them to her sides and wrap my hands around her wrists, looking at her gorgeous face. Her hazel eyes pierce mine. Vulnerability, arousal, readiness—that’s what I see in her eyes.

“I need you to put your hands on the kitchen table,” I tell her as I spin her around, walking her to the table, and pressing a hand on the small of her back so she understands. “And lift your ass.”

“Oh, God,” she whimpers as she flattens her back and lays her chest against the wood, her arms stretching straight in front of her.

She looks like a jewel in that dress, with the emerald against her creamy, pale flesh and caramel hair. I take off my glasses and set them next to her.

“Stay like that.” I bend to my knees and push her skirt up all the way to her ass. A loud groan rips from my throat as I see her panties. Pink. Lace. Barely there. “I don’t think anyone can legally sell these as underwear. They barely cover you, and God bless whoever made them.”

I glance at her face, pressed to the table, and she smiles wickedly. “There’s not much to them.”

I stare at her bare legs, every inch of my skin heated, burning with lust for her. I run my hands up the back of her thighs. “Look at you. So beautiful for me.” I slide my hands down to her ankles then kiss one cheek. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you?”

“How long?”

“Too fucking long. I’ve gotten off to this so many times. To going down on you.”

A full-body shudder shimmies along her legs. As I press a kiss to the back of her knee, a soft little moan falls from her lips. “How did you do it to me? When you fantasized about it?”

“Sometimes I spread you out on the table like this, or I turned you around and you were flat on your back, your heels at the edge of the wood.”

She shudders.

I kiss her right knee. “Sometimes you sat on my desk with your legs wide open and your feet up, and I had you for lunch.”

A gasp is her response. “I would come into your office and do that for you.”

“I know you would. And I’m going to hold you to that.” I run my hand up her thigh, cupping one cheek. “Sometimes you crawled up me and sat on my face, and you rocked your sexy little body against my mouth.”

She groans so loud it sends a rumble through my body. It makes my bones shake with lust. This is what it’s like to want someone with every fiber of your being. This desire for her, I feel it everywhere—inside me, along my skin, in my heart, in every goddamn cell in my body. It’s like a force of its own, obliterating everything else.

“Sometimes I’d set you on the couch, and I’d hold you down with my hands because you wiggled so much.”

“Because it was so good,” she moans.

I lick the back of her knee then flick my tongue up her thigh, reaching her ass. I lick across that wonderful seam where her ass meets her thigh, and she quivers. Her hands grip the edge of the table, white-knuckling it. “Of course it’s so good. It’s you and me, Angel.”

I bite the soft flesh of her rear, and she gasps, moving closer, trying valiantly to get me to bring my face between her legs.

“God, I want you so much. Please, please,” she whimpers. “Please take them off.”

I slide a hand between her legs and cup her. She’s so deliciously soaked, it sends a jolt of heat down my spine, and my dick hardens even more. “So wet.”

“Please,” she begs again.

It’s all she can say, and I don’t need her to say anything else.

“As you wish.” I slide down her panties, leave them on the floor, and press my lips close, but not quite close enough.

She wriggles, trying to get me to the sweet spot. Trying to push herself against my mouth. She’s a desperate, wanton thing. I shift to the other thigh and nip her flesh.

She cries out and moans my name. It sounds so fucking filthy and perfect on her lips that it breaks me down. “Do you want me to put you out of your misery, Angel?”

“Yes,” she moans, making that one syllable last like the chorus to a song.

At last, I kiss her.

I’m dizzy with desire. She’s sweet, salty honey. I lick her, and she cries out. Her taste floods my tongue, coats my lips. I kiss her harder, flicking my tongue across all that slippery heat.

As I go down on her, my brain is mostly a blur. My body is nothing but lust. But three things remain crystal clear.

I’m so fucking happy.

I’m so incredibly turned on.

And I’m deep in filthy, beautiful love with her.