Page 61 of Midnight Racers

“I’m scared,” I finally admitted, trying to look away.

Flynn refused to let me, his grip on my chin increasing until I returned his heated stare. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were mine, Charlotte. I will slit the throat of any man who comes within touching distance of you.” He walked me backward, step at a time, until my back hit the wall. “They will learn not to touch what doesn’t belong to them.”

I blinked once because the intensity in his eyes unnerved me. “What if they hurt you?” I whispered because that terrified me more than them hurting me.

His grin was feral and terrifying. “I promise the body count won’t include me. All bets are now off. The first one who touches what is mine will have his hand cut off, the next his throat slit until they get the message.”

“That should scare me,” I confessed.

“But?” His eyebrow rose in question.

“But for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel safe.”

His lips hovered over mine in temptation, his gaze boring deep into mine. “Just remember that I don’t share.”

“Neither do I.”

I moaned when he kissed me, his tongue scooping all the words I wanted to say out of my mouth. His hand slid down my body and he lifted me until my legs circled his waist.

“You are driving me fucking insane,” he muttered against my mouth.

I dug my nails into his powerful shoulders because the feeling was mutual. He had burrowed under my skin until I couldn’t think straight. He pinned me against the wall, his hips grinding into mine. I wanted him so much that I felt like ripping my yoga pants just to feel him and give him access.

“Condom,” Flynn groaned, moving to the island while still holding me under the ass. He grabbed his wallet and held that little foil up as if it was a prize. Considering how much I craved the way he stretched and filled me, it was the greatest prize in the world.

Flynn dragged my yoga pants and panties off, dropping them on the floor, followed by my sweatshirt.

“Spread them,” he said, his voice a deep baritone that sent shivers rippling down my spine to accumulate in my stomach.

I slowly lay back on the island, my gaze locked with his. My heels rested on the edge and I opened my legs to expose myself to him.

“Hell yeah,” he muttered, his fingers trailing between my lower lips.

I already knew that I was more than ready for him, just like I always seemed to be. My wanton pussy lubricated herself with moisture every time he kissed me with one of those deep, penetrating kisses. He rubbed a small circle on my clit which made my back arch.

“Flynn,” I moaned when his tongue followed the route of his finger, as he leaned down to torment me with flicks and zigzags over my sensitive nub. He was a magician because there was magic in his hands, goosebumps rising on my flesh everywhere he touched.

I needed him, craved him with an intensity that I had never experienced before. My fingers found his messy hair, my hips arching up in silent invitation.

“Please.” A simple word that begged him for everything I needed.

His finger dipped inside me as his mouth continued to kiss my clit, his tongue creating a heated pattern on my flesh. Pressure started to build low in my tummy, sparks of static energy branching out to my limbs. My body moved to the rhythm of his tongue and finger, riding his mouth as he fucked me with his finger and tongue.

Everything felt too much, the sensations of my body spiralling into overload. Flynn’s arm on my stomach held me down when my body began to buck, and that added to the earthquake brewing deep in my stomach. My teeth bit deep into my bottom lip as I tried to hold back the tsunami tides that were threatening to crest over me.

My knees tried to clamp shut as the first pulses of pleasure echoed from my womb into my limbs. Flynn’s hands landed on my legs to widen them and keep them open with his shoulders as he refused to stop tormenting me in the best possible way.

Perspiration coated my skin, and I began to pant. My pelvis felt like it was on fire and I couldn’t extinguish the flames Flynn created. His tongue was a weapon of mass seduction that led you into sin and debauchery, both of us worshipping at the altar of lust.

“Oh, God!” I panted, my hips arching.

His finger rubbed my g-spot harder while he sucked my clit. He was trying to kill me, and my headstone would read:died from orgasm overdose.

Everything coalesced in the perfect storm of passion and desire, and I screamed as my orgasm tore through me. He worked my body as if he was a conductor and I was the instrument, my every reaction a consequence of his actions.

“Flynn!” I gasped his name while he elongated my orgasm, leaving me shaking, vulnerable, and emotionally raw. I stared at the ceiling as he eventually kissed his way up my body until those green eyes stared down at me.

“You doing okay?” he asked.

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