Page 46 of Over the Edge

His knee pressed higher between my legs, and the pressure made me grind down against him, seeking more, seeking everything.

“Goddamn,” Flynn growled as he shifted his weight, letting me slide down the wall until my toes barely grazed the floor. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties and dragged them down, following the erotic slide of silk with his mouth and tongue until he was kneeling in front of me.

I shivered—not from cold, but from the intensity of his stare. He looked at me like I was a fucking feast and he was starving.

I bit my lip, squirming under the heat of his gaze, feeling the slickness between my thighs with every breath, every heartbeat. “You just gonna stand there?”

“I’ve been thinking about this pretty pussy all night. And now look at you, so fucking wet for me.” He spread my thighs wider until I was dripping onto his fingers. “Have you been this wet all night, my dangerous, deadly siren?”

“All night,” I gasped, my head falling back against the wall as his fingers traced through my folds, circling but never quite touching where I needed him most.

His answering smile was pure sin. “You get off on danger, princess?”

“I get off on you,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

Something flashed in his eyes—hunger, possession, triumph—as he lowered his mouth to my inner thigh. His stubble scraped deliciously against my sensitive skin, and the first stroke of his tongue had me arching off the wall, a strangled cry tearing from my throat. He licked into me like a man possessed, broad, flat strokes that gathered my wetness before focusing on my clit in hard, perfect strokes that had my legs trembling. So goddamn good.

My fingers tangled in his hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away as pleasure built too fast, too intense. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. My thoughts were a blur ofyesandnowandplease don’t stop. I was breathless, panting, riding his face with desperate, shameless abandon. Two of his thick fingers slid inside me, curling to find that perfect spot, and I cried out, my entire body shuddering.

“That’s it,” he growled against my clit, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through me. “Come for me, Lyric. Let me taste how sweet you are when you fall apart.”

His fingers pumped harder, faster, his tongue relentless against my swollen bud. My vision blurred at the edges. My whole world narrowed to the heat of his mouth, the pressure of his fingers, the way he pulled me apart and put me back together all at once. I was so close—so fucking close—teetering on the edge, my muscles clenching around his fingers as the pressure built to something unbearable.

“Flynn—” His name was a broken plea on my lips as the first wave crashed over me. My back arched, my thighs clamping around his head as I shattered, coming hard against his mouth.

He didn’t stop, working me through the orgasm until I was flying outside my body. And when I finally came down from it, gasping and boneless and completely undone, Flynn was there to catch me.

He laughed softly. “You want me keep tasting you?” His fingers were still deep inside me, moving in and out, and my legs trembled so violently I thought my knees would give out. “Or do you want me to fuck you raw?”

“Fuck me,” I begged, grinding against his wicked mouth as he teased my clit again with his tongue. “I need you inside me.”

When he finally pulled back, his lips were glistening with my wetness, his eyes dark and hungry. He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, towering over me with that feral look still burning bright. His cock was hard and straining against his pants, and I reached for him, palming his length through the fabric.

“Fuck me,” he hissed, his hips jerking forward into my touch.

“That’s the idea.” I rose to my feet and threaded my fingers through his hair, yanking his lips down to mine. “Get over here.”

A smirk played on his lips—a challenge, a dare—and then he was kissing me again, rough and wild. I tasted myself on him and fucking loved it.

I unhooked his belt, yanking it free with a snap, then fumbled at the button of his pants in frantic desperation. “Too many clothes.”

He helped me, shoving his pants down his hips, and the weight of his cock slapped against his abdomen—thick, heavy, flushed with need. My mouth watered at the sight of him. I wrapped my fingers around his length, reveling in the silky hardness, the way he pulsed in my palm.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his head falling back as I stroked him, my thumb gathering the moisture beading at his tip. “Your fucking hands.”

I sank to my knees, looking up at him through my lashes as I ran my tongue along the underside of his shaft. His eyes went molten, his fingers tangling in my hair as I took him into my mouth.

“Lyric,” he gasped, voice rough and broken. “That mouth—fuck?—“

I hummed around him, taking him deeper until he hit the back of my throat. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and I relaxed, letting him slide even deeper, loving the way his thighs tensed and his breath hitched. Power surged through me as I watched him come undone, this dangerous man reduced to ragged breaths and desperate groans by my mouth alone.

“Stop,” he finally growled, pulling me off him with gentle force. “Or this ends way too soon.”

But he didn’t let me finish. With a muttered curse, he pulled me to my feet and spun me around, pressing me face-first against the full length mirror hanging on the wall. His cock slid between my thighs, teasing through my slick folds without entering me.

“Condom,” I managed to gasp, my nails scraping against the cool glass as he nipped at my shoulder.

“Fuck. Right.” He left me long enough to find his discarded pants. Seconds later, I heard the rip of foil and the snap of latex.

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