Page 58 of Destroyer
After removing his shirt and the Kevlar, she trailed her fingers down his heated torso. His glistening, sun-kissed skin had her moaning, but when she pressed her mouth to his chest and kissed him, she murmured, “Solid granite.”
With excitement flitting through her, she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and slid her hand inside, only to be met with a massive cock. He was so firm, there was zero room for her in those pants, so she dropped the pants, knelt and untied his dress shoes.
Never one to kneel beforeanyman, there was something so compelling about Tank Santini thatdemandedher utmost respect.
“Sir, what can I do for you?”
She’d uttered the words before she could check herself. And she didn’t want to take them back.
“Suck. My. Cock,” he bit out.
“Fuck, yes.” She helped him out of his Santini loafers, appreciating that he dressed well, then she peeked up, feelingthe flush of heat burning through her, the constant need unrelenting.
She pulled his boxer briefs over his long, thick shaft, then waited for him to step out. He was built to fuck. Built to protect. He was a monster of a man.
His bobbing cock had her eyeing his massive shaft. “Hello, big daddio.”
A flash of a smile lit up his eyes before his gaze turned fiery. “I’m clean, I brought condoms, and I’m gonna taste salty from all that dancing.”
Feeling empowered by his directness, she ran eager fingers over his smooth shaft, pausing to appreciate the soft mushroom head of his super-sized penis.
“Mmm,” she murmured as she pushed the head into her mouth, swirled her tongue around him, and tasted him for the first time.
Her eyes fluttered closed, another flood of adrenaline pounded through her, while she savored his manhood. Taking him in farther, she wrapped one hand around his shaft, cradled his large orbs in her other.
Her system was on overload, and she hadn’t even taken him inside her.
I won’t last five minutes with him.
Slowly, she sucked him, drawing his delicious juices into her mouth. Then, she paused to pull him out. “I will swallow you down if you come.”
“Jesus, Sydney. Fuck me.”
“No,” she corrected him. “Fuckme.”
His gritty groan filled her ears with the sexiest sound. She gobbled him up, appreciating the need, the absolute desperation in his deep voice as she licked and sucked. But when she deep-throated him, strong fingers gripped her shoulders.
“I’m gonna unload,” he ground out.
She relaxed her jaw, did her best to take more of him into her mouth, and released an approving moan.
On the sexiest, garbled release of sounds, he pumped her with his juices. And she took them.
All. Of. Them.
When he finished, she slowed to a stop and pulled him out. She hated separating—coulda stayed there for a while longer—but she’d drained him dry.
For the moment.
She rose, started to leave for the bathroom to wipe her mouth—wet from his juices—when he wrapped his hand around her arm, swung her toward him, and ate her alive. His kiss ravaged her, made her knees give out, but he tightened his hold, refusing her escape.
Pressing close, she slid her fingers into his hair and hung on. Like earlier, he lifted her into his arms.
“Wrap me,” he commanded.
She clung like a monkey while she stared into his just-sexed eyes.
“You make me crazy,” he rasped. “Fuckingcrazy. I need you naked. I need to go down on you. I want you to fly.”
