Page 102 of Protected By Duval
“I’m okay with that,” she whispered and used her other hand to tug his zipper completely open. “I want you to lose control, McCrae. I want you to go crazy with me.”
“You make me crazy, ‘Elle. You make me lose all kinds of control when you touch me.”
She smiled and with a gentle twist of her wrist, she pulled him free of his boxer briefs. “I wonder what will happen when I taste you.”
She leaned in, while he watched her, and licked the length of him that she could reach, ending with her lips poised about the tip of his dick.
Noelle exhaled and she felt him shake in her grip.
“McCrae?”
“Fuuuck. I love the way you say my name.”
She licked her lips and she felt a long rope of precum fold over her fingers. “What about the way I do this...”
She opened her lips and leaned in until she felt the smooth head of his cock glance off of the top of her mouth.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck...”
She swore she felt the blood pulsing through his veins as she loved him with her mouth.
She hissed in surprise as his hand fisted in her hair at the back of her head.
It hurt, a little, but instead of making her want to pull away, she took him deeper.
There were a few precious moments left before he took control and showed her just how much he liked what she’d done to him.
CHAPTER 16
NOELLE
Even with the break she’d taken with McCrae at the beginning of the week, her work on the photo of Anthony Coolidge hadn’t made any more progress.
She’d worked on an assignment from a museum hoping to give faces to the children who’d been sent to church schools far away from their tribes.
That work was what she needed to feed her soul.
As much as she hated admitting she couldn’t complete a project, when it came to getting a workable ‘face’ for Anthony Coolidge, she was stumped.
It had been a bit of a stretch in the first place.
She normally worked from the inside out.
Taking an old photo and going under the skin and then attempting to picture a man as he might look currently?
Her skills didn’t extend to that scenario.
“Noelle?”
She startled when someone put a hand on her shoulder.
She’d been too deep in her thoughts to realize she wasn’t alone anymore.
That hand on her shoulder slid around to be a one-armed hug from Tracy Cooper.
“You’ve been looking at the same tray of lavender for almost twenty minutes.”
Lavender?
