Page 59 of Almost Yours
Every word lands like a shock to my system. I’m dizzy with want. I don’t stop. I suck him harder, swirl my tongue, and he arches into my mouth, cursing under his breath.
“Fuck, baby,” he grits out. “You want it? You want to swallow me?”
That’s exactly what I want. I want to see him fall apart for me, to know I can wreck him as much as he does me. I moan around him again. His hips thrust once, twice, and then he’s pulsing hot and thick on my tongue. I swallow and let him rideit out, savoring the way his jaw goes slack, how the usually controlled Rowan Wolfe is nothing but pure, unguarded pleasure.
Eventually, his hands loosen in my hair, gently stroking instead of gripping.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, voice hoarse. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he pulls me up to him. “Come here.”
His mouth crashes into mine, his tongue slipping between my lips. My knees go weak, even though I’m not using them. His hands are everywhere, cradling my face, gripping my hips, holding me steady. His tongue dances with mine, licking into me, coaxing out every hidden want.
He pulls back only when we’re both breathless. “You okay?” he asks, searching my eyes.
I nod as his thumb traces my swollen lips.
“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels.
I blush under his intense gaze. “It was okay?”
His eyes widen in disbelief. “Baby, I’ve gotten off to the thought of you on your knees more times than I care to admit, but nothing—and I mean fucking nothing—comes close to reality.”
“You’re perfect,” he goes on, not letting me shy away. “The way you looked at me while you used that sweet mouth to suck me off? I’ll be dreaming about it for the rest of my life.”
My chest is heaving, my cheeks burning hot with a blush I can feel spreading down my neck. I curl against him, burying my face into him.
He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Violet?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you,” he says. “For trusting me with that.”
My heart is trying to find its way back to normal, but my head is in the clouds. It’s as if I’m drunk, but it has nothing to do with the drinks earlier. It’s him.
“Still with me?” he asks.
“Barely,” I tease, though it’s true. My brain is just a swirl of sensation and disbelief.
“Stay,” he murmurs into my hair. “I want you to stay tonight.”
I lift my head to meet his eyes. “Just to sleep?”
His lips quirk in a soft smile. “Just to sleep.”
I nod, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Okay.”
He stands, pulling me up with him, and leads me up the stairs to his bedroom. It’s surprisingly tidy, with a king-sized bed dressed in navy sheets, a dresser, and a nightstand with nothing but a lamp. The windows are open, letting in the cool night air.
“I don’t have anything for you to sleep in,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Unless you want a T-shirt?”
“That would be great.”
He rummages through a drawer and pulls out a faded gray shirt that looks impossibly soft from years of wear.
“Bathroom’s through there,” he says, nodding toward a door on the far wall. “There should be a new toothbrush in the drawer if you need it.”
I slip into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. The countertop is clean, just a razor, toothpaste, and a bottle of cologne that smells exactly like him. I change quickly, pulling his shirt over my head. It falls mid-thigh, soft against my skin and carrying his scent.
He’s not getting it back.
