Page 590 of Summer Heat
I can’t.
Heart pounding, body humming with need, I bypass my sensibilities and reach down to undo his tool belt.
He groans, but doesn’t stop me. Better yet, he takes over, removing his tool belt altogether before he lifts me onto his desk. I look down and see him palm his thick cock through his work jeans, showing me how hard he is, watching me watching him.
It’s just as big as I remember. And the harder it gets, the more I begin to wonder how he’d feel, taste. What it’d be like to have him inside me.
I hear myself moan.
His eyes flare with heat. “What dirty little thoughts are you thinking right now? Tell me.”
I shake my head.
He lets out a quiet growl over my refusal to answer, and I swear, my pussy starts to throb.
“Then how about I tell you what kinds of thoughts I’m thinking instead?” He leans in close to tell me in a hot, hushed whisper, “It usually starts with me picturing my cock in that sexy mouth of yours.” His hands gently flex and skim down the sides of my torso, slowly, as he murmurs against my throat, “And it almost always ends the same…with me filling, overfilling, your pretty little pussy with my cum.”
My eyes slam shut when he grips my ass and pulls me flush against him. I can feel how hot he is, how hard he is, even through the thick denim. And instantly, I’m pummeled with new visions I’ve never before imagined, each one sizzling over my nerve endings and supercharging my fantasies.
I feel his lips graze my neck and settle behind my ear as he asks softly, quietly, “Would you let me do that, baby? Take your mouth? Come inside you?”
Oh, god. The man’s dirty talk should really classify as second or third base.
I sink my teeth into his shoulder to keep him from hearing me moan.
A sexy shudder racks his tall frame. “Hell. Do that again and we won’t just be talking about our fantasies anymore, sweetheart.”
I immediately squeeze my legs together, feeling my panties now soaked all the way through.
His hungry gaze drops down to my clenched thighs.
“Are you getting wet for me?” he asks on a growl.
No point in lying. I nod.
After a quick glance out the window, he stands me back up and cups his hand over my mound, hissing when I buck against his touch. “So damn responsive.” He spares another hard look out the window and says gruffly, “Just remember, this trailer isn’t soundproof. Bite my shoulder again if you have to…”
With no more warning than that, he unzips my jeans and slides his hand down the front of my panties.
I bury my face against his neck to keep from moaning.
“So fucking wet.” He circles my clit with first one finger. And then two. “Look at me, Summer.” Locking his gaze on mine, his fingers somehow bring me right to the edge with barely any effort.
How in the world am I so close to coming already? It usually takes me at least a half an hour to bring myself to this point, but he’s already got me panting and shaking in less than a minute.
The rest of my questions get obliterated from my brain when his other hand slides up under my shirt to roughly pinch my nipple through my bra.
“Come,” he commands on a growling whisper and my body takes the order and just shatters.
Pleasure explodes through my core almost violently, pulsing through me in hot, endless waves, jolting me with intense quakes of sensations, over and over, until I feel my legs simply give out from right under me.
He catches me, and cradles me against his tall frame while I attempt—mostly in vain—to drag some much-needed oxygen back in
to my lungs.
I have no idea how long it takes for the room to stop spinning, but eventually, I feel the spasms in my core begin to ease off, and the fog of pleasure dissipate into warm euphoria bit by slow, hazy bit.
I look up into his intense green gaze that never misses anything. “That was…”
