Page 69 of A Little Luck

If you don’t fuck Adam Stone, this week, I will never forgive you.

A short laugh jerks from her throat. “She has no idea.”

“I’m not finished with you,” I growl, biting the side of her ear. “One orgasm down. One to go.”

Taking a knee, I turn her, putting her leg over my shoulder and replacing my hand with my face. My mouth covers her pussy, and my tongue is on her clit, circling and teasing.

“Oh, God, oh…” She gasps, her knees jerking as her inner thighs tremble against my jaw.

Bracing one hand under her ass, I slide my other fingers inside her, feeling her squeezing as she comes, pulling my hair and moaning and rocking in time with my tongue on her clit.

Her wails start to subside, and I slow, easing my movements to soothing as we both gasp for breath, as she lowers to sit on my lap on the floor.

“Jesus…” Her forehead rests against my shoulder, and I hold her, sliding my fingers gently along the back of her neck.

We’re both naked from the waist down. We’re still in the kitchen, our glasses of wine on the bar above us. The dinner I cooked is getting cold, but that’s why God invented microwaves.

Catching her upper arms, I lift her to standing, then I lift her into my arms, kicking off my jeans and heading for the bedroom.

“What about our dinner?” A sassy grin curls her lips.

“It’s not going anywhere.”

But we are.

CHAPTER15

PIPER

“Oh, fuck! Fuck… fuck…” My stomach quivers, and I can’t stop coming.

Adam’s face is between my thighs again, and with every swipe of his tongue, his scruffy jaw scraping my sensitive skin, my mind blanks.

Rising over me, he rolls on a condom before sinking into my clenching insides. He’s so big, every time it takes a minute to stretch, to hold. He looks down at where our bodies are joined, and wonder is on his face, like he can’t get enough of watching us come together.

I need to feel him moving inside me. I buck my hips, and his blue eyes hold mine. “My greedy girl.”

A cocky smile curls his lips before he lowers his head to seal his mouth to mine. Our tongues meet and stroke, lips pulling and chasing. I’m on my fourth orgasm of the night, and he’s fucking me like he’s about to break the bed.

My fingers curl against his shoulders, and I pull harder. I want to meld his body with mine, join us in every way. I love the feel of his body, tense with need. I love the feel of his muscles quivering as he comes.

It isn’t long before his mouth breaks away. A bead of sweat traces his cheek, and I lick it, tasting the salt on my tongue. He’s focused, eyes closed, jaw clenched. His muscles flex, and a thrilling moan rips through his throat.

He holds above me, pulsing and finishing. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold him closer, never wanting to let him go.

He smells like soap and sweat and sex, and he lifts his chin, sliding a large palm over my forehead, moving my hair away from my face, and looking into my eyes.

We don’t speak. We only look at each other a moment like we’re trying to believe this is really happening. Maybe we should’ve done this three nights ago, but it’s the first time it all feels different, like we’ve turned a corner.

“Say it.” His voice is rough, and a hint of a smile teases the corner of his mouth.

My lips press together briefly, and my own voice is hoarse from crying out his name. “You’re mine.”

Leaning down, he kisses my cheek, my nose, my lips. “You’re mine.”

He has no idea how true those words are, lying here, secure beneath his warm, strong body. I’m his, and I’ll never be anyone else’s.

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