Page 597 of Summer Heat
“You’re coming for me one more time,” I tell her.
At her incredulous gasp that sounds part moan, part grumble, I chuckle and wrap my hands around her ankles so I can pull her to the edge of the bed and spread her thighs apart. I want to bury my face in her until she comes in my mouth one more time. Until I have her wet enough so I can take her without hurting her.
Not today though.
But soon.
Even as I make that vow—which I’m going to goddamn hold myself to if it kills me—the reminder that I’m the first man to touch her this way, that I’ll be the first man to slide into her perfect virgin pussy makes me fucking leak precum again.
But I stay the course.
I work my tongue in teasing little circles round her clit, forcing her moans to a higher decibel, wilder, less restrained than those quiet, breathy little moans and whimpers she was making earlier.
This is what I want. To break Summer of that tameness she uses to keep herself in check.
She’s the same way on the jobsite. Tempered at all times, even when I know there’s a whole bunch of cute craziness teeming inside of her.
This is going to be my new hobby. I’ve decided. Some guys golf. Me, I’m going to spend all my free time making Summer come as often as she’ll let me.
And I tell her as much as I stroke my tongue over her hot, swelling clit.
Her hands all but shred the bed sheets. “Oh my god, Jason, I’m going to…”
A fucking flood of her juices fill my mouth and it takes everything I have not to come in my fucking pants. I keep lapping at her, holding her firm while her clit pulses against my tongue.
When her body goes boneless, I trail soft, gentle kisses up her torso, making my way back up to her lips.
“I should go,” I say quietly against her mouth as I tuck her in under her blanket.
“What?” She looks like she’s swimming in quicksand as she tries to summon the energy to get back up.
She is not successful.
Which makes me pleased as fuck.
“You can’t just…” She gestures weakly in the air between us as if she can’t find the words.
“Eat your pussy?” I supply and her cheeks blaze red.
“And then leave,” she says with feeling. “You just keep giving me these…these drive-by orgasms without letting me do anything to you.”
I chuckle. Christ, this woman and her friggin’ cuteness. “Sweetheart, I’d love nothing more than to stay and let you have your wicked way with me, but I have to leave for the airport. Business trip, remember? China? For one week?”
“Oh, right,” she sighs disappointedly. “Wait,” she glances over at the clock on her nightstand, “shouldn’t you be at the airport already?”
“I’m going to have to book it over there now.”
“Do you need a ride?”
I smile. “No, I always park my truck at the airport so I can go straight over to meetings and things as soon as I land.”
“Oh.” She tilts her head at me curiously. “Do you travel in your own billionaire jet? I never asked you all the other times you flew out.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “No. I always fly commercial. Can’t justify the cost of a private plane. Especially not for these international flights. Plus, there are more cities and flight times if I go commercial.”
“Makes sense,” she says. “I’ve never gone anywhere outside of the country. Really, I just have my passport for government contracts.” Now that she’s no longer in her post-orgasmic haze, she’s back to her usual chatty self and winding all that long, gorgeous hair back up in a quick knot atop her head that leaves a few locks sticking up every which way.
It’s fucking adorable.
