Page 25 of On His Knees
“I have another,” he says, dipping his fingers into the front of my jeans as I shove his shirt from his shoulders. I lean into him, press my lips to his chest and breathe in his scent. It wraps around me, and hijacks my thoughts. The pad of his finger circles my swollen clit, and I cry out in sexual frustration, eager for him to slide it inside me.
“Tate.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs.
“Touch me.”
“I am touching you,” he says, teasing me with slow small circles that come close but never quite hit their mark. “And I have to say, I love finding you wet like this. Christ, you’re dripping all over my hand.”
I clench his shirt in my fists, and buck forward, but he continues to tease me with those damn barely there touches.
“I can’t wait to get my mouth on you again. You’re going to taste so fucking good.” His finger swirls, slides along my folds, then finally dips into my quaking sex before he centers it on my clit. I whimper, move against him. A needy girl not afraid to show him what his touch does to my body.
“Please, Tate, I want to come all over you.”
“You’ll come. You’ll come so fucking hard, Summer, you won’t be able to walk out of here. But when I leave this room, I want your scent all over my fingers and cock. I want your sweet aroma to linger on my skin when I’m back at the bar, thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you tonight when I get off.” He chuckles against my flesh, and then his throat makes a grinding sound when he swallows. “You know, I was so goddamn thirsty tonight.” His mouth nuzzles my ear, his hot words vibrating through me and taking me to a place I’ve never been before. “Water wouldn’t even quench my thirst, but I know what will.” He turns me, puts a hand on my stomach and presses me against the wall. Then he sinks to his knees. I move my hips, eager to get out of my pants.
“Stay
still,” he commands in a rough voice, and I stop rocking. I take deep shallow breaths and blink in the dimly lit room, as he takes charge of my pleasure—and I let him. The rustle of my jeans reaches my ears as he hooks his fingers through the belt loops of my pants and tugs them down my legs, taking my thong with them.
He nuzzles my sex, his breath like fire on my skin as he breathes me in. “So fucking perfect,” he murmurs, then takes one of my legs, lifts it and places it on one of the shelving units beside me. I stand before him, back against the wall, pants somewhere on the floor, my pussy spread wide-open, his for the taking. We’re in the dark, but I never felt so bare, so exposed...so worshiped.
He touches me with his finger. “So hot and wet and needy,” he murmurs. “Exactly how I like you.” He leans in and licks me, a long, languid slide from bottom to top.
“Yes,” I cry out, louder than I should. I grip his hair and curl my hips into him. “Fuck me with your tongue,” I say rawly—maybe his brazen words are rubbing off on me. He laps at me, slow and gentle at first but then his tongue stiffens, whips my clit, until I’m writhing against his mouth. “That is so goood.”
He treats my clit to a good lashing. I cry out and he pushes his tongue inside me. I quake around him, so damn close to release it’s insane. Delirious with need, I buck against his face as he greedily eats at me. He jabs his tongue in and out of my hot core, his thumb pressing against my lust-inflamed clit. I toss my head from side to side, barely able to get air in my lungs.
He thrusts a finger inside me, his mouth and fingers changing position, and when my muscles slacken, grow weak, I hold his hair tighter. He softens his tongue, presses it flat against my clit as his fingers probe deeper. God, that feels incredible. I moan, my throat too tight to pass words.
“I wish I could see you better. I love the look on your face when you come for me,” he says, and just like that my body gives in to the pleasure. I stand on boneless legs and suck in a wheezing breath as I clench hard around him, drawing his finger deeper into my body. I concentrate on the pulses of pleasure, as my release drips down his hand and my thighs, hotter, wetter than I’d been the night before.
“Yes, come all over me,” he murmurs. I sag against the wall, as his powerful fingers go deeper and deeper, his thumb sweeping my oversensitized clit as he wrings out a second orgasm. I can’t believe I’m coming again so fast. This man...my God, the things he can do to my body.
I pant, gasp for air, my hair damp on my forehead. “Tate...that was...” I stop talking. How can I describe what this man makes me feel? He climbs to his feet, his hard cock denting my body as he leans into me.
With nothing soft or tender about him, he presses on my shoulders, and I go to the floor. “Take my cock in your mouth. I want you to take it deeper this time, Summer. I want to bury myself in your mouth.”
Goddammit that turns me on. “Yes,” I say, and part my lips, wanting him to choke me a little. I lean into him, but he stops me.
“Don’t move.”
I go still, but keep my mouth open, widening it to accommodate his girth, and in the dim light he grows fatter under my gaze. “See how hard you make me?” He laughs, but it’s tortured. “You like making me hard like this, don’t you, Summer?”
“Yes. I love your cock like this,” I say, open and honest with him, and loving that I don’t have to hold anything back in the bedroom—or the storage closet. He brings out the best in me that way, makes me completely comfortable with my sexuality.
He rubs his cock, rougher than the night before as the salty tang of his arousal teases my senses. His hips jerk forward, and he feeds me his length, one glorious inch at a time until his crown hits the back of my throat, and I whimper for more. I shift a little, holding his legs for leverage. The floor is hard on my knees, but I don’t care. All I care about is taking as much of him into my body as possible. I relax my throat and lean into him. Footsteps pass by the door outside, but I don’t stop. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I actually love it when he fucks my mouth like this.
“That’s it, Summer. Just like that. Take it nice and deep, babe. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
We both move, find a rhythm, my breath harder and harder to catch as he fills my throat with his length. He cups his balls and puts his other hand on my head, to follow along with the motion. He thickens even more, and I work my mouth around him harder, alternating between licking and sucking, wanting to make this so good for him, wanting him to fill my throat with his cum.
“If I didn’t need to be inside you so bad, I’d come down your throat, watch you drink me in.” I moan at the dirty talk, my body heating up all over again. Holy hell, could this sex get any hotter?
He pulls out, leaving my mouth empty and hungry, and I whimper at the loss of him. He helps me to my feet, and I use the wall for support as he shoves the supplies from the shelf to clear it.
“Come here.”