Page 72 of Playing for the Hat Trick
I don’t drop them.
I bunch the silk in one fist, lift it to my nose, and inhale.
She gasps.
I grin.
Then I kiss her ankle.
Not her thigh. Not the center of her heat.
Her ankle.
One soft, reverent press of my lips there, then the other, and her entire body tightens like she doesn’t know what to do with gentleness from a man who just promised to wreck her.
“Your legs,” I murmur, tracing her shin with my fingertips. “Fuck, these legs. They’ve been wrapped around my head in my dreams for days.”
She bites her lip.
I don’t stop.
I drag my hands up slowly, worshiping every inch like she’s a map I intend to memorize. When I reach her knees, I spread them wider, eyes locked on the slick, glistening pink of her pussy—but I don’t touch it. Not yet.
Instead, I press kisses up her thighs. Left, then right. Just the edges. Just enough to make her squirm.
Then I lick.
One teasing swipe over her inner thigh. Not where she needs me. Just enough to make her cry out.
Her hands grip the counter—her back arches.
“Jason,” she breathes. “Fuck me.”
I smile against her skin. “Not yet.”
I glance up, chin resting just above her pelvis like I’ve got all fucking day.
Because I do. Because this—this right here? This is a religious experience, and I’m the most devout sinner she’ll ever know.
She’s trembling. Eyes glassy, thighs twitching, hips tilting like she’s trying to nudge me where she needs me most.
I don’t budge.
Instead, I blow.
Just the faintest breath—nothing more than a ghost of heat across slick, swollen skin. Her body jolts like I’ve zapped her. Her fists tighten against the counter’s edge, and a curse slips past her lips.
“Oh, fuck, Tate.”
I grin, slow and cocky. “You rang?”
She groans. Full-body, head-thrown-back groan, the kind that makes a guy want to drop a ring on her finger just to hear that sound on the regular. Her legs try to close, but I hook my arms beneath her knees and anchor her wide.
“Where do you think you’re going, baby?”
A second breath. Longer this time. Her core pulses beneath the heat of it, and, fuck. I’m hard as granite, just watching her squirm.
“You’re evil,” she hisses, but her voice cracks halfway through, breathless and broken in the most beautiful way.
