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Hurt flashed in her eyes, but it didn’t overpower the desire I saw there. Or was that my own reflected back at me?

Bad idea. Horrible idea. Really fucking awful idea.

I abandoned her wrists, took her waist in one hand, and the nape of her neck in the other, and kissed her. She gasped with surprise, and I ran my tongue along the soft skin inside her lower lip. Then I took total possession of her mouth, stroking my tongue over the roof of her mouth and the line just behind her teeth. Fuck, she tasted like strawberries and champagne—all sweet and heady.

I groaned when her tongue rubbed against mine and nearly lost my shit when she licked that sweet little tongue into my mouth, exploring me the same way I’d just done with her. I tilted her head so I could kiss her deeper, then took her over and over. It wasn’t enough. I needed more.

As if she’d heard my thoughts, she shifted her legs, looped her hands around my neck, and used me as leverage to climb. My grip shifted to her silk-clad ass as she settled in my lap like she’d been there a thousand times, her knees braced on either side of my hips.

Our mouths met in a fury of want and desire too long ignored. We were ravenous, as if we could sate the need of the last two years in this single kiss. Her fingers shifted to my hair as her hips ground over mine, drawing a groan from my throat as my cock swelled.

I wanted to touch her, to find out if her skin felt as soft as the fabric of her dress, but my hands were occupied keeping her from falling on her ass. I stood, carrying her slight weight, then spun to deposit her on the desk.

She didn’t blink at the switch in positions, but merely took hold of the tie we’d fought over earlier in the evening, and pulled me down to her as she lay back against the expanse of cherry. Holy fucking turn on.

I sent one hand into her hair and closed my eyes in surrender as my lips found hers again. She was hot, spun silk, from the skin of her shoulder to the hair that spilled over my hand as I sank into her kiss. She was better than I’d ever imagined. How had I lived this long without knowing her taste?

She arched up against me, and my mouth traveled a path from her lips to the impossibly soft skin of her neck. She whimpered, her hips rolling over mine as I kissed her pulse. My girl had a button, and I’d just found it.

I tongued that little patch of skin, and she cried out, her fingernails biting into the back of my neck. When she rocked against my hips, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my cock that shot through the rest of my nerve endings, I switched my grip, sending one hand to her knee.

As I traveled south, caressing each millimeter of her neck as I went, my hand journeyed north, following the silk of her stockings until I reached a lace band and—

“You wear garters?” I growled against the base of her throat.

“Are you complaining?” She shifted so my hand slid further up her thigh, following the small strap that connected her stockings to the lingerie above.

“Fuck no. Everything about you is incredible.” I lifted my head.

Her smile was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

Our mouths met in a kiss that was even hotter than the last, our tongues as urgent as our breathing. My hand reached the top of her thigh and nearly trembled with restraint. How the hell had I not known she’d worn this under all that prim and proper fabric all night? I grazed the line where thigh met hip with my thumb, then followed it down until I found the edge of her panties—they felt like lace.

My mouth watered at the thought of burying my head between those thighs and finding out if she tasted this sweet everywhere. Instead, I dragged my thumb down the very center of her, using the friction against the lace to drive her higher in her need.

She yanked her mouth free, sucking in lungfuls of air as her eyes locked with mine, which narrowed slightly, daring her to stop me, to tell me she’d had enough.

The woman rocked against my fucking hand.

I hissed, feeling the lace grow damp beneath my fingers.

“More, Cannon,” she pled, then rocked again so I knew exactly what she was asking for. Then she gripped my neck and pulled me back into her kiss.

Fuck, the woman kissed with a reckless hedonism that had thoroughly intoxicated me. My thumb drifted to the band that separated lace from flesh—

A soft click sounded, and I jerked my hand to her knee as the door opened behind me. I moved to instinctively cover Persephone, only to realize she was fully clothed. We both were.


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Carolina Reapers Romance