Page 27 of The Contractor's Rose
Those two words were all it took to shatter every ounce of restraint I had left. I lost myself in the moment, worshipping her with every touch, every kiss, every breath.
“I’ve thought about this too many times,” I said, lips brushing the inside of her thigh. “Thought about getting between these thighs, learning what makes you beg.”
Her thighs trembled under my hands, and her fingers curled tight around the edge of the counter beneath her. I’d barely started, and already she was falling apart for me. So sweet. So damn responsive.
I pressed another kiss over her panties while keeping my eyes locked on her face, watching the way her breath caught, the way her back arched instinctively.
I slid my hands slowly from her calves all the way up, hooking my fingers into the thin elastic of her panties. “Lift.”
I pulled them off and placed them in my back pocket for safekeeping—or just keeping, for good.
“I’m going to make you remember tonight.” I placed a kiss on the inside of her left knee. “Every time you close your eyes”—I dropped another kiss on the inside of her right thigh—“every time you touch yourself, you’ll think of this.”
I placed a gentle kiss on her dripping sex.
“Of me.”
FIFTEEN
ROSEMARIE
His mouth was on me—hot,intent, claiming—and I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
Every nerve in my body lit up like a fresh candle wick meeting its first match, burning bright and uncontrollable.
I began to lean back, eyes fluttering shut as a rush of sensation flooded me from the inside out.
I was barely aware of the way my palms were now pressed behind me, holding me up on the counter so hard that my wrists began to burn. The marble was cold beneath me, such a stark contrast to the fever building under my skin.
But none of that mattered. All I could focus on was the way he looked up at me. Like I was important. Like I was his.
And when I said it—those two syllables that had lived in my head longer than I wanted to admit—I thought maybe he’d flinch. Maybe he’d stop. Or worse, kick me out and never speak to me again.
But he didn’t.
He shattered.
The way his eyes darkened, the way his mouth foundmine again, claiming me with a kiss so full of hunger and want that it felt like worship—God. I’d never felt wanted like that.
I’d neverbeenwanted like that.
And then he was moving those same kisses down my body. Slow. Deliberate. Kissing places that barely saw the sun, let alone the touch of someone else.
Every brush of his lips against my skin sent shockwaves through my belly—soft at first, then deeper, more intense. Those teasing kisses on the inside of my knees and thighs had caused a fire to build and build in my lower belly.
My hips had jerked at the first contact of his lips against my pussy. A shocked gasp tore from my throat before I could think to muffle it. His eyes met mine and did not waver while sliding his callused palms up my legs, spreading me wide enough to deliver one long, slow stroke from my center up to my clit.
When he pulled away slightly to leave another soft kiss on my pubic bone, my hips moved instinctively, chasing his mouth for more. I was shameless at that moment. I would’ve begged him if he hadn’t already been reading every desperate signal my body gave him.
“You taste like heaven, Rose. Sweet and mine.”
I hummed in response because what were words anymore? Making a complete sentence seemed like an impossible task at this point.
“I think I want to enjoy a little dessert before feeding you dinner, sweet girl.”
My whole body was trembling, legs falling open without thought, without shame. “Please, Gavin.”
He held me there, open for him, before delivering the tiniest slap to my pussy. A shocked, heated soundpunched from my chest. Then he cupped me again, massaging away the sting, his rough palm soothing and firm. It made me dizzy—the contrast, the control, the care.
