Page 35 of Pucked In Vegas

"Jackson—"

"Let me," I growl, looking up at her from between her legs. Those ice-blue eyes are wide, pupils blown with want. "Let me taste you."

Her breath stutters as I spread her silky smooth thighs wider, positioning myself exactly where I need to be. Where I've been fantasizing about being since the moment I watched her command that entire ballroom today.

Fuck.

She was magnificent.

Standing there in her tiny dress, tablet in hand, orchestrating what was previously chaos into perfection. Like she'd done it a thousand times before. Like she was born for it.

I'd tried to stay focused on my job, to talk to the media, to get ready for the big draft. But I couldn't look away. Even from the careful distance I maintained, I saw every executive in that room hanging on her words. Every detail handled with like a goddamn corporate Michelangelo painting.

She belonged there. In that world.Myworld.

It makes me wonder… why has she been running from it?

The first taste of her pulls a groan from deep in my chest. She's sweet and slick and so fucking responsive that my cock throbs against my sweatpants, desperate for attention I'm not ready to give it yet.

Not when I can make her fall apart like this.

"Oh god," she moans, head falling back against the door.

I drag my tongue through her folds, savoring every drop, every tremor that runs through her body. She's glistening, soaking wet, her scent thick in the air. I press my mouth in deeper, flattening my tongue against her slit, and fuck, the taste of her makes my eyes roll back.

Her hands fist in my hair, nails scraping my scalp, tugging just hard enough to make me groan against her pussy.

The sound vibrates through her, and her hips buck forward, seeking more.

I give it to her.

I flick my tongue over her clit, teasing it before I suck it between my lips and suck hard with a greedy growl. She cries out, a strangled sound that echoes off the hotel walls.

My hands grip her creamy, soft thighs tighter, thumbs digging into the smooth flesh as I hold her open, so vulnerable, so exposed for me.

She tastes like heaven and sin and every bad decision I've ever wanted to make.

"You're perfect," I grunt against her heat, the words muffled between laps against her pussy. "So fucking perfect."

Her response is a broken whimper that shoots straight to my cock. I can feel her getting wetter, her slick coating my chin, her thighs trembling against my palms as I feast on her like a man possessed.

Last time she was in this room, that morning when we woke up together wrecked and hungover beyond all belief, I watched her panic about our marriage.

I thought maybe we'd made a mistake.

Maybe the alcohol had made us both stupid and reckless.

But now, with her taste flooding my senses and her moans echoing off the hotel room walls, I know better.

This isn't a mistake. This is inevitable.

I suck her clit between my lips, flicking it with my tongue until she cries out, her grip in my hair tightening to the point of pain. The sting only makes me harder, makes me more desperate to claim every inch of her.

"Jax,oh! I can't," she gasps, but her hips are rolling against my mouth, chasing the pleasure I'm giving her. "This is insane."

I pull back just enough to speak, my breath hot against her slick flesh. "You taste so fucking good."

I drag my tongue lower, teasing her entrance before plunging it inside her. She jerks forward with a helpless moan, legs shaking, her whole body trembling as I fuck her with my tongue, devouring her like I’ll never get the chance again.

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