Page 42 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation
“You can’t stand me, and I really don’t find you on my list of favorite people,” he says.
I glare. “Chemistry, Murphy. You know we have it.”
“Oh, you’re an expert now.” He lifts a brow and looks so damn sexy I want to throw myself at him. And I hate myself for even thinking that.
I suck in a sharp breath.
“And remember, I already said no.” He settles back against the wall, watching me as he gives off the air of being mildly bored.
“Say yes.”
He shrugs. “Change. My. Mind. You have two minutes.”
Panic swamps me, robbing me of air. But I slowly reach up under my skirt, pull off my underwear, and keeping my gaze on him, I approach and rub them on his face.
And I hear him breathe in.
Murphy plucks them away and swings them off a finger. “A decent start.”
Heat flares in my pussy.
I pull down the dress’s zipper, and shrug it off my shoulders, low enough that my lace bra peeks out. And then I trail my fingers down his chest to the zipper on his pants. He’s wearing all black. Long-sleeve t-shirt, black pants. He looks, in a word, delectable.
Murphy’s hard, and I trace over the piercings through the fabric of his pants, and as I start to lower the zipper, he says, “Tell you what, if you can get me off in two minutes, I’ll think about saying yes.”
“Think?”
“I might say yes if you let me fuck you up the ass.”
Now he’s taunting me. His eyes glint as he looks at me, and I think about biting him.
Except… I’m salivating. I’ve had his cock in my mouth before and I want it again. I don’t want to taste myself, though. I want his taste on my tongue. I want to make him come.
There’s something severely wrong with me, I know that. Most men I’ve kissed leave me cold; the handful I’ve fucked did the same. And some of them I really liked.
But this one? This man I can’t stand?
I’m practically drooling. I’m wet for him. Without my underwear, I can feel the moisture clinging to my thighs. My clit throbs, and there’s an ache inside that spreads through my limbs, dumbing down my brain.
Because, fuck, do I want him.
“Less than two minutes. One minute and forty seconds. I’m counting, Ava.”
“Fucking—”
“That’s the idea.”
I lower myself to my knees and pull his hard cock from his pants. He’s gorgeous. Thick, corded, precum glistening at the tip.
The anger and hate still burns, but it’s all caught in the net of pulsating desire. I lower my head and lick him, every rung of the Jacob’s ladder on the top and underneath.
Five.
There are five bars on the top of his cock. I slide my tongue under to run over those once more.
Four of those, like he’s had them all spaced just so to give maximum pleasure. There’s something erotically nuclear about them, about touching and sucking them with my tongue and lips.
“One minute ten, Ava,” he rasps, thrusting hard into my mouth.
