Page 6 of Manhattan Secret

No pathetic attempt at turning me on.

This woman sees plainly how badly her snapped—tight body affects me.

This woman is grown, completely my type, and I want her in my mouth, down my throat, twirling on my dick.

One lick of her lips, she doesn’t even bother to look around when she hops down off the stool putting her at around five foot two, to my bigger six-two.

That’s another turn on.

I haven’t moved out of her space, which means she slides up against me and it’s there we both hiss.

Pleasure assaults.

And when I look down at the sad little brown mouse with her woeful eyes, now heated down to the core, she nods only once.

It’s euphoria that makes me gurgle a pleased growl and I try to swoop down to finally taste that fucking delectable mouth—see how well she takes it when I suck the plump bottom lip but her hand on my chest stops me. “Not here.”

Not here. I’m fine with that.

Hooking her hand in mine, it feels warm and small, her fingers squeeze back to let me know she’s not as mousy as I assume, and the motion is felt in my jeans.

Whatever unhappiness that is in her eyes, she’s about to have the best thirty minutes of her life.

C H A P T E R 2

Lachlan

It’s provocative, the upsurge of weakness and lust that races over my body, head to toe just from the feel of her mouth sucking mine.

Crammed into the bathroom stall like sardines, there would have been so much more room for what I wanted to do if I’d dragged her into the disabled stall down the other end but even I have morals… to a point and can’t bring myself to take up that space. So I pushed us into the nearest stall, unable to wait for that kiss.

It’s better than anticipated.

I’m bent low, she’s up high on her tiptoes and we’ve met at the mouths, open and wet and ready to devour.

Hungry.

Untamed.

Frantic.

She tastes hot, spicy, and wild.

As if a little kissing has switched her system on and she scrapes both hands through my hair, clawing her teeth over my lips, sucking and biting—turning me on to dangerous levels like a nuclear reactor.

I make the cramped space work for us when it comes to getting rid of clothes by pushing her face first down over the closed toilet, bracing her hands on the cistern, and my knee knocks her legs wide.

We’re two wild beasts panting.

“Want this?” I hiss, pleasure coming at me like a runaway truck.

I shove her tight skirt all the way up her thighs to reveal a pair of purple briefs barely covering ass cheeks made for my teeth to sink into.

So I do, by folding myself in half and sinking my teeth deep and she moans, head bent all the way forward, her spine soft at the bottom. I ride a hand into the front of those panties, rubbing her already drenched pussy.

She feels like the softest silk. “Answer me, babe.”

“Yes, I want it,” smoke voice whispers, sending vicious pulses of arousal through my stomach. “Want it,want it.”

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