Page 95 of The Auction
A low growl rumbles from my chest. I stand, grab her wrists in one hand, and grab her soaked panties off the table. I use them to bind her hands together. Her eyes go wide, breath hitching when I grab her chin and make her look at me.
“Lay back,” I tell her, voice low and rough. “And don’t disturb my meal again.”
She swallows hard but obeys, lying back across the table, arms above her head. Her breasts rise and fall fast, and fuck if that view doesn’t go straight to my cock.
I lean forward and take one nipple into my mouth, sucking slow and deep just to feel her gasp and arch for me. My hand cups the other breast, thumb brushing over the hardened peak until she’s trembling. She’s so damn responsive—every flick of my tongue or roll of my thumb makes her breathe harder. I wonder if I could make her come just from this alone. I’m absolutely going to try one day.
But not now. Right now, I need more of her.
I drop to my knees and spread her open again, hooking her thighs over my shoulders.
She sits her head up to look at me and I swear I see her pupils dilate more. Like she’s seeing a fantasy play out for real. And fuck, I hope so.
“Holy shit.” She breathes as she lays her head back down.
Then I go in—tongue sliding through her pussy, circling that perfect little bundle of nerves, sucking until her back arches.
“God, you taste even better the second time,” I murmur against her, my lips brushing her sensitive skin. Her hips twitch up, her bound hands pulling against the panties, and I press her thigh harder into my shoulder, holding her still.
She’s sensitive, every flick of my tongue making her moan louder. I work her slow at first—long licks, gentle sucks—until her breathing starts to stutter. Then I pick up the pace, tongue stroking fast, my hand sliding down and rubbing the lips of her pussy.
“Fuck—Jax—” Her voice is broken now, desperate, and it’s all I can do not to come in my jeans from the sound of it.
My mouth seals over her clit, and she shatters—hips bucking, thighs clamping around my head, a raw, unfiltered cry tearingfrom her throat. Her fingers thread through my hair and she pulls.
I don’t stop until every last tremor leaves her body. When I finally pull back, she’s spread out on my table like a feast, arms still bound, chest heaving, hair wild.
And all I can think is… she’s mine now, and I’m never letting her go.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, then kiss a slow, wet path up her stomach, over her ribs, until I find her mouth. Her wrists are still bound in her panties, and I pull them over my head so her arms loop around me, holding me there while I kiss her deep—stealing every last trace of her from my tongue.
“You taste so fucking good,” I murmur against her lips, hands sliding over her sides, her hips, committing every curve to memory. She’s completely naked, warm and soft in my arms, while I’m still fully dressed.
I could strip and take her now. God knows I want to.
But not until she asks me to. Not until shewantsit as much as I do.
“You look way too smug right now,” she says, a teasing glint in her eyes.
My brow arches. “Oh yeah?”
She smirks. “Yeah.”
I don’t bother with a comeback. I just scoop her up bridal-style and start walking toward the patio doors.
Her eyes widen. “What are you—Jaxon?—”
“Well, gotta clean the smug off me, don’t you think?” I say simply, stepping outside into the warm night air, the faint chlorine scent of the pool mixing with the dried marinara still stuck to both of us from earlier.
We’re halfway there when she blurts, “Your phone!”
I skid to a stop, fish it out of my pocket, and toss it onto a lounge chair without looking. “Good looking out, Crick.”
Then I grin down at her. “Now plug your nose.”
Before she can protest, I take off running and leap straight into the deep end with her in my arms.
We break the surface with a rush of air, my arms shifting her so her legs wrap tight around my waist, her breasts pressing flush to my chest. Water slides between us, but it’s not enough to cool the heat curling low in my gut.
