Page 102 of Buckin' Around

“Well, go on,” I breathe.

Hunger flares to life in his gaze as I’m lowered to the floor gently. My shorts are tugged from my hips a beat later.

I lay mostly bare on the hardwood floor, the late afternoon sunshine streaming through the window behind Spencer, every beam of light that makes it through the window lighting him up. His blonde hair abuzz with the golden light. The sheen of sweat on his muscular body set alight.

I have the instant and overwhelming need to see all of him.

I sit up, reaching for his jeans.

He catches my wrist with one big hand. Collecting my other wrist, he raises them over my head, shaking his. “No. This man is starved. No way in hell are grabby little hands distracting me from this.”

I huff an indignant sound but obey, leaving my hands over my head, resting on the floor as he moves back.

A finger tracks beneath the waistband of my panties.

My breaths shallow out even further.

I’m on fire and dying from the cold all at once. I’m desperate for him. Wanting to flee and save myself the agony of living this once and then having to live without it.

My panties peel from my hips, and I buck my hips, letting them loose over my bottom.

Spencer pins me with a glare that would melt the polar ice caps.

“Sorry, no distractions. Got it,” I pant.

He slides my panties down one leg, bending them to take them over my toes. The other leg goes next.

Then I’m fully exposed. Lying on the hardwood.

Bare.

Pussy on full display.

So wet and achy that I don’t feel an ounce of anxiety over Spencer taking his time.

He kneels, raising one of my legs over his shoulder. “Ah... fuck.”

Oh god. He bends down, dropping kisses along my inner thigh. His mouth is inches from my center when emotion gets the better of me, and I slide a hand down, trying to cover myself.

“Riles, Iwilltie you up. Don’t tempt a man. Not this close to damn starvation,” he growls.

Feck.

Spence shifts, his muscles flexing, gaze traveling down my leg. “For that little stunt, I want you on full display before I devour this sweet pussy.”

My leg is pulled from his shoulder. He spreads my thighs wide.

Heat engulfs my cheeks.

My breasts ache. My clit throbs like it’s set to detonate.

“Spence . . . please . . .” The words are no more than a whispered plea.

His low, gravel-filled hum is so close to where I want his mouth.

I’m holding my last breath. My fingers crave something to curl around, but I don’t dare move my arms again.

Another kiss presses to my inner thigh.