“Badly.”
“Can you wait until we make it back to your place, or do you need relief right now?”
Make it back to my place? That’s like…whatever exploding-vagina plus apocalyptic-dread plus spontaneous-combustion equals, and it’s that far away. Which, in normal, not-about-to-burst-from-sexual-frustration terms means very fucking far.
Clearly, my answer is simple. “Now.”
Immediately, he pulls his hand away from me and smirks. “Hold that thought for five minutes.”
“F-five minutes?” I question, and the outright disappointment is embarrassingly evident in my voice.
I mean, five minutes? That might as well be an eternity.
But Jude just leans forward and whispers into my ear, “Just five minutes, Soph. And then I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll feel it in your toes.”
I swallow down the urge to blurt out something crazy like, “Just bang me right here!” and try my best to keep control of my body for the next four minutes and forty-five seconds.
I know this because I’m now counting in my head. And each second that ticks by makes me certain that once these five minutes are up, I can’t be held liable for what I do or say.
Thirty-three.
Thirty-two.
Thirty-one.
“How much time do I have left?” Jude asks, his hand gripped tightly around mine as he leads us out of the restaurant and into one of the mostly empty hallways of the lavish hotel.
“Huh?”
“How many seconds, Sophie?” He smirks down at me, and I try to play it cool like I haven’t been counting since the moment he set the deadline at five minutes.
Twenty-nine.
Twenty-eight.
Twenty-seven.
“Uh…I don’t know. How would I possibly know that?”
“Because I’ve been watching your mouth move with each second that passes by.”
Well, shoot.
“How many?” he repeats, and his blue eyes call my bluff so hard that I answer with the cold, hard facts.
“Nineteen.”
“Looks like we’re going to have to take a detour, huh?” He winks in my direction, and before I know it, he’s pulling us into one of the bathrooms of the freaking Plaza Hotel.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Keeping my word,” he says and shuts the door behind us.
“What if someone comes in here?”
“I guess we’re just going to have to take our chances.”
My jaw practically hits the tops of my stilettos. “Jude! You can’t be serious!”
“And there’s also a lock on the door that I might’ve just utilized.” He grins and stalks toward me like a big, sexy lion ready to consume his prey. The instant he reaches me, he kneels down, yanks up my dress, and grips my ass with his strong hands just as he buries his face against my panties.
On a deep inhale, he looks up at me with hooded eyes. “You always smell so fucking sweet when you’re wet like this.”
I whimper.
“Can I make you come?”
“Should that even be a question right now?”
His eyes are amused at my sassiness. “You’ve been waiting for this for a while, huh?” he questions, and his wicked fingers slide my panties down my thighs. “Ever since I told you to wear a dress, I bet you’ve been thinking about my tongue right here.” He pats two fingers on my clit, making my back bow dramatically.
I swallow. Nod. And suck both of my lips into my mouth.
With purpose, he shoves my nude silk panties into his pocket and shoots a little waggle of his brow in my direction. “For the collection,” he comments, and I’m not sure if it makes me a total pervert to be aroused that Jude Winslow keeps stealing my underwear, but man oh man, it’s one heck of a turn-on.
“You know, Sophie,” he says, staring directly at my pussy. “I’ve been thinking about the same thing.” He floats his lips across my bare skin, dangerously close to the one spot that’s become so needy for his touch, I feel as if I could burst into flames. “Thinking about putting my mouth on you. Right here. On this very spot. I’ve been dying to taste you again,” he whispers just before he gently licks his tongue across my swollen clit.
My hips jolt forward at the unexpected but intense sensation.
Slowly, he slides his index finger up my inner thigh and doesn’t stop until that finger is inside me. He moves it in and out in the most delicious rhythm, and I moan.
“And right here,” he whispers, and he licks his tongue across my entrance. “I’ve been dreaming of burying my cock here ever since I left your apartment the other morning. Hell, I almost woke you up just so I could feel this perfect cunt of yours wrapped around me again.”
“You should have,” I say, and my voice is so breathy that it hardly makes any sound at all.
“Next time, I probably will.”
“And what about right now?”
He grins up at me. “Right now, I’m going to make you come. Once on my tongue and then again on my cock. And babe, let me tell you—that second orgasm, it’s going to wring you fucking dry.”