“Focus, Princess.”
“I am.”
He raises a single brow.
“On you being on your knees for me,” I whisper.
“You like that? Me worshipping you?”
“Fuck yes.”
“Good.” The word is almost a growl.
Without another word, he grips my inner thighs just shy of my entrance and runs his tongue over my soaked center, suckling my clit.
All thoughts of kings and queens fizzle out as I moan, tempted to bite down on the sofa.
“Hell, you’re drenched, baby.”
“Less talking, more fucking, Cowboy.”
“Bossy little woman,” he says, shoving two fingers inside me without warning.
“Ah, fuck. God yes,” I whimper, wriggling my hips, needing more.
Needing Lawson to fill me up.
Every last inch of him inside me is what I’m salivating for.
He pumps his fingers in and out. “Look at you, Princess. Dripping wet, soaking my damn hand.”
“I don’t want your hand. It’s not enough,” I rasp.
He retracts his hand and rocks back on his heels.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I say on a groan.
His breaths are now choppy, and I see the way he’s restraining himself. So, I rise a little and tilt my ass at his eye level. “Please, Laws. Please, I’m burning up for you. So desperate.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“Come on, let me have it, one delicious inch after the other.” I grab my breast, squeezing it before rolling the nipple between my fingers. “Oh, fuck, Cowboy.”
Rising, I sweep my hair over one shoulder and turn a little so he’s looking at my profile. I slide a hand down my belly and sweep a finger over my aching clit.
He fists his cock, his eyes closing as his head falls back. “Sweet Jesus, Carlie.”
I sink two digits into my aching core, and instantly my breathing hitches, my heart slamming into my rib cage.
“Look at me, Lawson.” My tone is harsher than I mean it to be, but it gets the desired result.
His eyes on me, unwavering.
“Should I just fuck my fingers until I come?”
“Let me see you do that.” He shuffles closer, his hand still working his cock.
I swirl my fingertips over my clit and can’t help the whimper that tumbles through my parted lips.