One moment, he was sitting back and watching himself explore.
The next, my head was against the armrest and his body was half folded over mine.
I got one moment to enjoy the heat in his eyes before his lips were suddenly on mine.
Hard.
Hungry.
I swear every inch of me ignited at the contact.
The heat scorched through me, leaving ashes and ruins in its wake as my lips started to respond to his. Taking, giving, yet always demanding more.
Brock’s responded to the call, deepening the kiss, nipping my lower lip, tracing the seam with his tongue, then moving inside to claim mine.
A low, throaty moan escaped me then as need hummed through my system, making me feel overly sensitive.
Suddenly, my dress felt like it was suffocating me, and the material felt like it scraped across my skin.
Brock’s lips ripped from mine, tracing a path over my jaw, teasing the shell of my ear, then sliding down my neck.
Turning my head, I gave him more access as I let myself fully submerge in that moment, in the sensation of his lips, the feel of his warm breath on my skin.
His tongue circled the pulse point in my throat before moving down, running kisses over my collarbone, then down between my breasts.
The dress was tight, impossible to slide down, so his face just rested there for a moment before he was moving downward.
Sitting back on his heels, his hands went to my skirt, sliding it up my legs, then thighs, having to tug a bit to get the tight material up over my hips, where he left it.
His hungry gaze slid over my thighs, then the swatch of barely-there lace panties between.
His hand flattened, sliding up my calf, back of my knee, then up my thigh to slip inward, grab the material, and start pulling it down.
Thoughts proved impossible right then.
All that existed was the moment, the way he was focusing on me, the sensations coursing through me.
Panties gone, my thighs pressed together until Brock’s hands were moving up my legs once again, gently putting pressure on my knees until they parted for him.
He let out a little sighing sound at the move as he bent forward, pressing a kiss to the side of my knee, then the other, before his lips were moving up the inside of my thigh, getting closer and closer to where I needed him most, where the need was so acute it was almost painful.
Then, just when I was sure that I couldn’t take the sweet torment for a moment longer, his face was between my thighs, his tongue was sliding up my cleft, then teasing across my clit.
My whole body jolted at the contact before a shiver coursed through me and a low whimper escaped my lips.
Against me, Brock let out a groaning sound as he kept working me, as he started to drive me upward.
His hands massaged my thighs, then guided my legs over his shoulders.
My hips rocked restlessly against him as my back arched off the couch.
Brock’s hand slid between us, his fingers teasing at the entrance of my body, fingers tapping for a long moment before finally sliding inside of me.
His tongue circled and his fingers thrust, then turned, and curled to tease over my top wall as my muted whimpers became moans. My fingers tangled in his soft hair, holding him to me as he pushed me right to that edge, then tossed me over, leaving me to crash down into the orgasm.
My body was still shaking from the release when he was pulling away, kissing back down my thigh, then lifting up and coming over me.
“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured before his lips claimed mine again.