“I need to taste you, Peaches.”
“Please,” she whines, her head hanging back as she writhes with need.
Pulling my hand from her panties, I quickly work them down her legs. She carefully steps out of them, and then I shove them into my pocket. With her dress pulled up, I get a good look at her, and she fidgets as she waits, clearly anticipating my mouth on her cunt.
Instead, I touch her, running my fingers through her folds and getting her warm and relaxed. And then I rear back my hand and slap her hard between the legs. A high-pitched gasp bursts through her lips and she stares at me with shock. Her chest heaves up and down with her heavy breathing.
So I do it again. And again. I turn her pussy red with my hand, each gasp and moan from my strikes getting more desperate sounding. She’s swaying now, hanging from her wrists while her legs tremble.
She’s had enough, so I finally ease to my knees at her feet and stare up at her, loving the way goose bumps ripple along her breasts and across her bare skin. With my hands on her thighs, I steady her, and she stares down at me with excitement and need.
“Don’t worry. I’ll kiss it better,” I say with a smile. Then I turn my attention to her soaking cunt in front of me. Easing some of the weight off her feet, I spread her thighs and take a look at just how perfect she is up close. After one more glance up at her face, I lean in and run my tongue along the length of her folds, and she immediately responds with a long, soft moan of pleasure.
“Fuck, I love the way you taste,” I mumble. So I dig my face between her legs and lap at her pussy like a man dying of thirst, and I don’t come up for air even once.
I am not the man I was before. Now that I allow myself to indulge in all of the dirty, sexy, beautiful things I never let myself do before, I feel free.
And starved.
With a growl, I lift Sage from the floor and wrap her thighs around my head on my shoulders. With her back against the wall, she rides my face closer and closer to her climax.
I get lost in savoring the taste and feel of her against my tongue. Sucking hard on her sensitive clit makes her legs buck and her spine arch. Within seconds, I have her squirming and panting for air. I’m going to make her come, and on the one hand, I can’t wait, but on the other…I don’t think I’m ready for this to be over.
Releasing the suction from her clit, I use my fingers to spread her wide again, and I feel the audience behind me now, desperate for a view of what’s mine. So I put my mouth back where it was and watch as she gives them a show, looking more exquisite than I’ve ever seen. As I slide my finger inside her, I curl it in a come here motion while still sucking on the spot that makes her squirm.
She comes undone.
“Oh god, don’t stop,” she cries out. And I make it my life’s purpose to make her come right here on my shoulders. I’m relentless, sucking and nibbling while thrusting so hard that she tries to practically climb out of my grasp.
“Adam!” she screams just before I feel her body seize up in my arms, so I know she’s in the throes of her orgasm. I let her ride out the wave on my tongue, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever experienced.
When I finally ease her off my shoulders, I feel like I’ve lost a sense of reality. In some ways, I have.
Something changed in me while I was touching her, tasting her, feeling her.
And I never want to go back.
Twenty-Eight
Sage
M y wrists burn and my arms ache, but I can’t feel anything other than his mouth between my legs. Who would have thought Mr. Church Boy himself had such a talented tongue?
Not me, that’s for fucking sure. I thought that first night was a fluke or a moment of passion, but tonight proved me wrong.
He’s just that good.
When he finally pulls his mouth from the apex of my thighs, I’m hanging in a cold sweat and my heart is still hammering in my chest. Our eyes meet as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and suddenly I’m melting all over again. Then he fixes my dress, covering my naked breasts.
Carefully, he unbinds my hands and rubs at my wrists when he notices the red marks left behind.
As he sets me on my feet and stares down at me, I feel as if we’re seeing each other for the first time. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, brushing my sweat-soaked hair out of my face.
And I want to kiss him. I want to worship those exquisitely talented lips. I want to get lost in a connection so intimate that none of these people standing around us exist. There is only me and Adam. My Adam.
Pressing upward, I reach for his mouth, mere inches away when we’re bombarded.
“Let me buy you two a drink,” an older voice says in a gravelly mumble.
“My girlfriend and I would love to take you both to a room,” a female voice interjects.
“You two are so hot,” another voice joins in.
Soon, it’s a cacophony of sexual invitations, voices blended together as bodies crowd us. Adam pulls me closer as I sense his patience growing thin. His jaw clenches as he pushes me through the crowd toward the door.
It’s chaos until we finally reach the door, sucking in fresh air when we get to the parking lot, running hand in hand until he’s practically shoving me into his car. As he slams the door with me safely tucked inside, the cool leather against my ass reminds me that I’m not wearing any underwear. The panties I came here with are now in Adam’s pocket, and I don’t know if I should remind him of that or if I should let him keep them. If he even wants them.
What even are we now? I still don’t know if I mean anything to Adam Goode, which is frustrating because, with every passing moment, he means more and more to me. This broken, splintered man is slowly coming back to life right before my eyes.
Sure, he just tongue-fucked me to oblivion in front of a crowd, and he seemed to really enjoy it, but that was just playing the part. It doesn’t mean he cares about me.
All of this runs through my head in the time it takes for him to shut my door and walk around the car to the other side and climb into his own seat. By the time he slams his own door and glances my way with a strangely warm expression, I’m feeling hopeless and confused. And he can sense it.
“I should get you home,” he says, almost making it sound like a question.
Awkward silence fills the car, and I can’t stand it, so I turn toward him and address it head-on.
“Should we talk?”
His brow furrows. “About?”
“About what just happened back there. That wasn’t pretending, Adam.”
There’s a look of contemplation on his face for a split second before he responds, “It’s all part of the plan, isn’t it?”
“It was supposed to be fake. That wasn’t fake. And what happened at your parents’ house wasn’t fake either. And in your dad’s office—”
“Okay,” he snaps, and I close my lips, letting a wave of heat flush my cheeks. Inside, I’m begging Adam to do anything but shut me out. Don’t leave me hanging here with my heart on my sleeve just so he can avoid facing reality.
Don’t make me look and feel like a fool.
I understand this is a big change for him. I understand that he’s behaving in a way he never would have before, but it still feels like he has one foot in his past life and one foot in this life. I just wish he’d step all the way in—for me.