Page 25 of Breaking the Lawyer

Like I'm on fire. Like I'm exactly where I belong.

The sound of the door opening makes me turn, and there he is, holding two glasses of red wine. His shirt is hanging open, and the sight of him backlit by the apartment's soft lighting makes my mouth go dry.

"Thought you might need this," he says, handing me a glass.

I take it but don't drink, too busy staring at his chest. "Have you cooled off yet?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "You're impatient."

"Of course I'm impatient. Just look at you."

I set my glass down on the nearest surface and step closer, reaching out to touch his stomach. His muscles jump under my palm, and I can't help the small moan that escapes me.

"Brooks..."

"What?" I look up at him, letting my hand drift lower. "You said you needed a moment. I'm giving you a moment."

But I'm also palming myself through my pants, because I can't help it. The sight of him, the feel of his skin under my hand, the way he's looking at me like he wants to devour me—it's all too much.

He watches, his breathing getting heavier, and I can see the exact moment his control snaps.

"Fuck it," he growls, and then he's on me, kissing me with a desperation that matches my own.

His hands are everywhere, yanking at my clothes with an urgency that makes me dizzy. My shirt hits the ground, followedby my pants, and before I know it, I'm naked under the stars while he's still mostly dressed.

"Not fair," I pant against his mouth, but before I can remedy the situation, he's dropping to his knees.

The sight of him like that—on his knees in front of me, still in his expensive pants with his shirt hanging open—nearly makes me come on the spot.

"Jesus," I breathe, gripping the railing behind me.

He looks up at me, eyes dark with want, and then he's taking me into his mouth.

The sensation is indescribable. Hot and wet and perfect, nothing like anything I've ever felt before. He knows exactly what he's doing, when to use his tongue, when to hollow his cheeks, when to take me deeper.

I'm gripping the railing so hard my knuckles are white, trying not to thrust into his mouth, trying not to come within the first thirty seconds. But he's making these sounds, these little moans that vibrate through my entire body, and I can feel my control slipping.

"God," I gasp, one hand moving to tangle in his hair. "That feels so good."

He responds by taking me deeper, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. The city stretches out below us, completely oblivious to what's happening on this balcony, and the thought of being exposed like this only makes it hotter.

He's relentless, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick, teasing licks that make my hips jerk involuntarily. When he swirls his tongue around the head of my cock, I nearly lose it.

"Stop," I manage, tugging gently at his hair. "I don't want to come yet."

He pulls off with a wet sound, looking up at me with swollen lips and dark eyes. "What do you want?"

My mind goes blank for a moment, overwhelmed by the sight of him and the possibilities spinning through my head. When I finally find my voice, the words come out desperate.

"I want you to ride me."

Something flickers in his eyes. He stands slowly, and I reach out to touch his cock through his pants, learning his size, his shape, feeling how hard he is.

"Teach me," I say, working at his belt. "Show me what to do."

He steps out of his pants, and I take a moment to just look at him. All of him. The broad shoulders, the defined chest, the way the light plays across his skin. He's beautiful in a way that makes my chest tight with want.

"Are you sure?" he asks, and I can hear the need in his voice.

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