He plays with me as he laps a path across each one with his talented tongue, his mouth moving slowly as he speaks between sweeping strokes.
My head falls back, my clit throbbing as his fingers move. He removes my blouse, throwing it to the floor, and it is all I can do not to moan immediately, my skin coming alive underneath his rough caress, the rigid tips of his practiced fingers.
He is every bit of a fantasy. And more.
He shrugs out of his suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor, and before I can reach for him and remove the rest, his knees sink to sit next to the discarded garment, his gaze going to the space between my thighs. I close them instinctively, and he pries them apart with his thumbs, his hands gripping each of my slightly scarred knees.
His stare—hot and steady—returns to my barely-there panties, and as I squirm, unable to take the intensity of his scrutiny, he places one finger under my skirt, sliding the fabric covering my most sensitive skin to the side. My heart thrums a frantic rhythm, and I glance down at him, soaking in the sight of his furrowed face.
I inhale slowly.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a quivery breath.
He gazes back up at me, his chestnut hair tousled as his eyes smile. His face follows suit. “Just admiring the view…” He looks back down, beneath the fabric over my thighs. “You…” His deep voice rasps low. “Are so fucking beautiful, Violet.”
He never calls me Violet. And the sound of my name coming off his full, hungry mouth makes me thread my fingers through the thick strands atop his head. He lowers his lips, pressing forward.
Sliding the rest of my skirt’s fabric aside, he crosses the tip of his pink tongue across my clit, strumming, and I collapse the rest of the way against the hardened counters, my back arching as Heath slides inside of my slit with the entire length of that marvelous tongue.
My chest heaves, my body trembling as he makes love to me with his tongue, his lips, his thick fingers, and as he strokes, sinks, and sucks, my body strains, my pulse threatening to pack up and climb out of my climaxing body.
Heath pulls back suddenly.
“No,” he orders, stopping my insane ascent to heaven. “Not yet, gorgeous. When I make you come…” I watch his stare sear up my body as I open my eyes, gawking at him in wonder. “I want your everything. I won’t settle for less…”
Everything? I’m so close to coming apart at the seams that I don’t see how I could have anything else to give.
My bare bottom slides against the smooth granite surface, as he slips one digit inside my wet opening, swirling so skillfully that my teeth break the skin over my sensitive lip.
“Fuck, Heath,” I breathe, stars swinging through my vision. “I don’t think I can give any more.”
“Maybe not. But I can give you more…” he counters. “And more and more…”
His mouth descends one more time, and I know this is the finale. As he flicks the pad of his thumb against my clit, he fucks me with his tongue. Plunging. Plundering. Playing to his heart’s content.
He pumps me over and over with its pink length, and I cry out, my hands holding onto his messy brown mane for dear life.
“Heath!” I scream. “Oh my God… I’m going to… I’m going to…”
He releases his mouth just long enough to say “Come on my fucking tongue, sweetheart” and I do, my body releasing in a blinding, disorienting orgasm that soaks my inner thighs and Heath in the process.
He laps up every drop, dipping his lips to press at the skin surrounding my slippery slit.
I sigh, willing my body to just breathe. I throw my hands above my head—spent, and as Heath stands to his feet, I know I can’t wait. I can’t wait for him to fuck me.
To take that hard cock of his and sink it into me hard enough to send us both into oblivion. He leans forward, kissing me slowly, and with my taste on the edge of his tongue, I suck my own flavor—hard.
Another rush of arousal hits me and as I reach for Heath, to press into him, hip-to-hip, the sudden drum of footsteps coming fast in our direction makes me scream. I drop my hands from Heath’s body as the biggest dog I’ve ever seen rushes at us, nearly knocking Heath over as he jumps up—powerful paws and all, landing a heavy blow on the tall man’s tightened hips.
“Tank!” He shouts, seemingly as surprised as I am. “What the fuck are you doing out of your crate?”
As if the dog can understand him, he tucks a set of dark gray ears close to his head, his sloppy grin shutting as he watches Heath with careful eyes. The beautiful beast glares over at me, and I sit straight up, and as my blue eyes meet his, my racing heart slows…and melts.
He is such a magnificent creature.
“Tank!” Heath cries again, startling the humongous pup. “Get out of here!” He snaps. “Right now.”
“No!” I shout, shocking everyone in the room, including Tank. Straightening my skirt, I slide from the sharp edge of the kitchen counter, standing to my feet.
I hang my hand hesitantly in front of the gorgeous American Bully. He sniffs, as I knew he would, and as he becomes familiar with my scent, I start to smile.
He’s just like my old dog, Espresso.
To most, Espresso was a walking miniature monster. But most wouldn’t look beyond the big exterior to see the lovable ball of fur lying beneath.
Tank licks my hand, and I feel instantly connected to the sturdy-shouldered mutt, my fingers finally reaching up to stroke behind the tiny marvel’s short ears. He grunts in satisfaction, and I sink my fingers deeper, rubbing the skin harder as Heath watches us both in awe.
His mouth hangs open for a second before he closes it suddenly. He gazes over at me.
“This is the meanest damned dog alive.”
I grin at Tank. “I guess he didn’t get the memo.”
“Tank doesn’t like anybody. Least of all, me.”
I crouch, petting Tank with both hands. I glance up. “Then why do you have him?”
He shrugs with an amused grin. “It’s Marilyn’s dog. I’m just holding him until…” He trails off, never picking the sentence back up. His mocha eyes turn sad.
So much emotion in one man. So many surprises.
I stand, brushing my hands off on my skirt as my new best friend sidles up to my exposed leg. Heath stares at Tank in defiance.
“Looks like somebody’s trying to stake his claim.”
I laugh out loud. I gaze quickly at the dog nuzzling near my feet. I look back up at Heath. “He reminds me of someone I know.” I arch my eyebrow, and I realize it is a mistake immediately.
My beautiful boss—God, I still can’t believe it—takes the gesture as a challenge. He starts to walk closer, causing a hungry chill to run over my skin, as he stalks me with singeing cocoa eyes. His hands reach me—pulling, and I let him wrap them around me as his willing victim.
“Is this someone anyone I know?”
I shrug, my pussy throbbing to the beat of Heath’s hovering body. “Maybe. He goes by the name of Sparrow. And he’s arrogant. Irreverent. Totally impossible to work with.”
He nods, a hidden smile peeking beneath his stare. “You forgot one thing about this someone.”
“What?”
“He’s completely crazy about you.”