Page 225 of Saving Her

I suck her clit, earning a throaty moan and a tightening of those gorgeous thighs around my head.

My dick pulses with need. From base to tip. Balls included.

I fucking throb for her, the urgency making me mindless. The torture of my headache is the saving grace stopping me from blowing my load in the towel.

I yank her closer to me, holding her on the edge of the vanity, her heels coming to rest against my back as one of her hands grips the counter. It’s the perfect view, the landscape before me filled with smooth waist and perky tits covered under the thin layer of her shirt.

She doesn’t quit watching as I devour her, nuzzling against her pubic bone, lashing her with harder strokes.

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, her brows furrow, and that breathing,fuck, her breathing is so short and sharp I ache to claim her mouth.

“Come up here,” she pants. “I want you.”

No. I’m not fucking her.

The last thing she deserves is some pussy-starved, threadbare man rutting into her.

“Please, Luca.”

I hold tighter to her thighs, lapping, sucking.

She whimpers. Wiggles. “Please.”

I don’t listen. I keep devouring, every last drop of arousal sliding down the back of my throat.

“Luca, stop,” she begs.

I freeze, instantly, and lean back on my haunches. “You okay?”

She nods, straightens, then reaches forward to grab my jaw, guiding me to stand with such exquisite confidence. “Drop the towel.”

“Penny, we’re not—”

“Please, Luc, just drop the towel.”

I growl. “We’re not having sex.”

“I didn’t ask for sex.” She blinks up at me, all innocent and meek. “I only want to see you.”

I’ll give her anything she asks for when she looks at me that way. My towel. My sanity. My life. I tug at the material around my waist and release it to fall to the floor. But she doesn’t take what she requested. It’s the same as when I was in the shower; her gaze doesn’t lower.

“What is it?” My dick remains hard, not bothered by her lack of attention. “What’s wrong?”

She stares at my chest, her breathing remaining heavy. “I’m nervous. I’ve never seen a man naked without feeling threatened.”

I tense. “And do you feel threatened now?”

“No.”

“Then look at me.”

Her brow furrows, those dark eyes wincing.

“Shorty, just because I’m hard doesn’t mean I’ll ever take something that isn’t offered. You never need to feel vulnerable around me.”

The wince deepens, her struggle intensifying. “I know.”

“Then look.”

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