“Spread,” he orders with a tap to both thighs.
I obey, and a string of low curses leave his lips. Before I can figure out what he’s saying, his tongue darts out over my pussy, and in one long lick, he tastes me.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” I chant. Somehow, my fingers have clenched in his hair. When his tongue flicks relentlessly against my clit, I cry out.
I have the sensation of floating right out of my body. I’m incoherently moaning, but when his teeth scrape against the sensitive bundle of nerves, and he thrusts two thick fingers into my channel, my torso lifts off the bed.
I can barely breathe.
For once, I’m not focused on my to-do list, or the way the skin of my tummy sags over my C-section scar. I’m not worried about money or my ex. My only concern right now is coming. On Dillon taking my orgasm like it belongs to him.
And really, doesn’t it?
Just when I think I’m going over the edge, he eases back. I blink a few times to focus my vision, and when I stare down my body, I find Dillon watching me with a smile that hints at what’s to come.
“Tell me what you want.” He strikes as soon as he’s finished speaking and sucks my clit into his mouth. It borders on brutal in the most inviting way.
The pull from his lips sends a ripple of lust through my entire body.
Then he stops, and an honest-to-goodness whine of protest escapes my lips. “Wh—What are you doing?” I cry.
He digs his chin in closer to my skin and his tongue slips inside me. He circles his entire face, and the flickers of orgasm threaten to burst before he moves away again.
“Dillon,” I sob. “Dillon, please.”
A growl that’s neither human nor beast erupts from somewhere deep inside him. “Jesus Christ, do I like my name on those pretty lips.”
Another lick. Another suck. Another finger.
Then he stops.
I’m bordering on real tears now but can’t form one coherent word.
“Tell.” He gives my pussy a lazy lick.
“Me.” His finger curls deep inside me.
“What.” His tongue flicks like it’s in a race against time.
“You.” His growl vibrates against my clit.
I’m close. So, so close that a tear breaks free.
“Want. Tell me what you want.” A devious curl of his lips tells me he knows exactly what he’s done to me.
He’s done the unimaginable.
He’s taken my worries, my fears, and my insecurities. He holds the weight of them, so all I can do is feel.
“You,” I scream. “I want you, and I want to come. Please, Dillon. Please.”
My eyes squeeze shut, and he moves over me. His thumb rests with heavy pressure against my clit and the thick head of his cock breaches my entrance. I’m lost. He’s my only anchor, and I wrap my legs around his back and pull him into me.
“Fuck. Fuuuck,” he groans.
One thrust, and he’s inside.
Two thrusts, and my vision blurs.