“Fuck,” he mutters, claiming my lips with another kiss. My arms wrap tightly around his neck, pressing my body to his. It feels so right.
Standing on my tiptoes, I whisper against his ear. “I’ve been thinking about the feel of you inside of me all day.”
His cock twitches against my stomach. “Is that what you want?”
I nod, too nervous to say any more. He’s created a sinner. I’m addicted to the fire with which he burns my skin—a slow singe that spreads until my whole body is aflame.
The alcohol is starting to wear off. Just enough remains to give me the confidence for this—to initiate what Blake wouldn’t when we walked through the door. He showed a little bit of nobility—a miniscule version of Prince Charming—with his concern for my heart. It just made me want him even more.
He lifts me off my feet and carries me to the kitchen, his mouth connected to mine. He holds me to him with one arm while using the other to clear a stack of newspapers from the counter. Before I even realize what’s happening, I’m sitting on the edge with Blake between my legs. I’m done messing around . . . I need him inside of me.
Reaching between us, I work the button on his pants. There’s not an ounce of patience left in me.
“Hey,” he groans, gripping my wrist. “There’s no rush, Lemon Drop.”
I look up, using my free hand to run the back of my finger against his jaw. “Are you ever going to tell me why you call me that?”
He grins, pressing his index finger to my lips. “We’re done talking.” His hot lips replace his finger, but I pull back, earning myself a curious look. This back and forth thing . . . we do it a lot.
“Tell me, or maybe I’m not playing tonight.” He better freaking tell me, because there’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep with this hungry sensation between my legs.
He leans in, and I think he might kiss me. Try to silence me. But he doesn’t. He pauses a few inches from my face. “I don’t have to tell you a damn thing to get between those legs, and you know it.”
“Not true,” I mutter, shaking my head.
He grips my knees then skims his fingers along the inside of my thighs. I spread them wider, thinking it will interrupt his rhythm, but it works against me. His thumbs stroke the top my thighs and a thick groan escapes his lips. “I knew the second you walked out in that sexy little robe that I was going to fuck you.”
When he slips one finger inside of me, I gasp. “You’re so fucking wet and ready for me. I dare you to make me to stop. This pretty little pussy would hate you for it.”
He pushes a second finger into me. Pressure builds quickly. He’s winning, but when he’s winning like this, I’m anything but losing.
He stills his fingers, using his free hand to lift my chin so my eyes align with his. The intensity within them burns into mine. “Want me to stop?”
I shake my head as much as I can against his touch. There’s nothing but green lights when his hands are on me.
His fingers thrust into my body just once, causing me to shutter. “I didn’t hear you.”
I steady my breathing just enough, digging my fingers into his shoulders. It’s not what I want, though. Not even close. “No, fuck me, Blake.”
A smile spreads across his handsome face. “Good girl.”
I sit completely naked in front of him, the light above the sink the only thing illuminating the dark space. The intensity in his eyes is worth drowning in.
“Lean back,” he commands. I do as he asks, watching him strip out of his clothes. The moment I decided to step out of my room, there wasn’t going to be any going back. Blake’s an enigma. I want his body, but I don’t need his heart, at least that’s what I keep telling myself. It may be nothing but a sugar-coated lie, but as long as I still have him like this, none of that really matters.
He splays his hand between my bare breasts, slowly working it down against my flat stomach, circling my belly button. All I want is him inside of me, but he treats me like a wind-up toy—teasing and touching until I explode.
He uses his hands on my thighs to spread me, and then his hot mouth hits my core. His tongue laps my clit a few times followed by sucking. It’s the most amazing feeling . . . the pressure he creates, his skill. I wrap my legs around his back and tug his hair between my fingers in appreciation. This man . . .
My walls clench, causing me to scream out of pleasure. “Blake. Fuck.” I pull his hair harder, letting the silky strands fall from between my fingers.
“That was number one. Let’s work on two and three.” His words alone get the river of desire flowing again. Derek always made sure I had one. To him, that meant I got mine, but in actuality, it just made me want another.
Blake stands and kisses me, letting me taste myself on him. It’s sexy as hell. With his lips still on mine, he pushes into me with one quick motion. I’m so wet and ready . . . for him. His mouth trails my neck as he rolls my nipples between his fingertips. The combination—having so many places touched by him—puts my body into overdrive. I dig my nails into his back as my second orgasm rips through me. It’s better this time with his cock buried deep inside of me.
“Jesus,” he groans, pumping into me harder. He reaches deeper than I ever thought possible. This is what it’s like to be filled completely. “The guy at the club—he could never give you this. You were made for me. So fucking perfect.”
I moan, letting myself fall back on the counter, on full display for him. My mind fixates on the emotional explosion our connected bodies create. I’m so lost in the feeling, my eyes close unintentionally, and then I miss him. I miss the intensity I see in his eyes.
I watch as he pulls open a drawer, still buried in me. I hear shuffling below but don’t think much of it; the sensation of our joined bodies is enough to handle. He slams the drawer shut and puts his fingers to my lips. “Open.”
I narrow my eyes at him in question, but he doesn’t say anything more. He’s going to win . . . he always wins. I part my lips and taste sweet candy on my tongue . . . a lemon drop. Sweet on the outside, tart inside, it’s not my first choice but it has me thinking of him. He thrusts two more times then gently kisses my lips. “Pass me the candy.”
Placing it on the edge of my tongue, I allow him to suck it between his lips. He rolls it in his mouth a few times before bringing his head down to my nipple, lapping it with the candy between my skin and his tongue. The texture does things to me that I never imagined, heightening the sense of arousal. He moves to my other breast, repeating the same.
“Blake,” I cry.
The sticky candy falls from his tongue, slowly sliding down my stomach. He looks up at me, eyes hooded. “You want to know why I call you Lemon Drop?”
I nod, gripping his hair between my fingers. He moves his head back down, tracing circles around the candy with his tongue.
“Until I met you,” he murmurs against my skin. The candy slips lower, and I imagine what it would feel like in his mouth while it’s working my clit. “Life handed me nothing but lemons. Shit. Heartbreak. Bad Luck.” It glides even further. So close. I don’t even care why he calls me Lemon Drop anymore as long as he does what I want him to.
“And, since I met you, things aren’t as black. I even catch myself smiling sometimes. Life’s sweeter with you.” He clenches the candy between his teeth. His cock slips out of me, and I want it back.
“Blake.” His mouth covers my clit, licking and sucking. The lemon drop is cradled in his tongue, providing constant added pleasure. When he said three orgasms, he wasn’t exaggerating.
When I’m mere seconds from falling back into bliss, he stops. I whimper. He’s dangling something so freaking delicious in front of me, but I can’t quite grasp it. He’s a tease, but I keep coming back for more.
He works his way back up, licking a trail around my belly button and my breasts. He thrusts his cock back into me as his mouth trails up my throat. When our eyes are level, he brushes his lips against mine. “Take the lemon drop back, baby.”