Page 76 of To the Chase


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“Do you understand how badly I want this?” he asked. “Can you feel it?”

“I feel it.” My fingers bunched in his hair. “I understand because I want you too.”

Groaning, he tore off his glasses, tossed them onto the ottoman, then scooted to the edge of the cushion. He nuzzled his face against the lace of my panties then gripped the waistband, easing them down my hips. Before he pulled them all the way off, he looked up at me again, asking without words.

“Do it,” I said, my voice thick with want. “Please.”

He slipped my panties the rest of the way off and brushed his nose against the triangle of hair above my cleft.

“This is…” He shook his head. “You erase every single thought.” He slid his hand around the back of my thigh, guiding my foot to the cushion beside him. “Put this up here. Let me look at all of you.”

He dropped to his knees in front of me, and I nearly fell apart. He had yet to touch me, but my lizards, I had never seen anything sexier than Salvatore Gallo kneeling like he was preparing to worship.

One hand anchored at my hip, he parted me with the other. The sound he made as hereallylooked at me, in a way no one ever had, came from a well so deep it could have been miles away. Primal. Filled with desire. He tipped forward, a notch forming between his brows as he studied me close enough for me to feel his breath.

If this had been anyone else, it might have felt intrusive, but from Tore…it made me feel special in a way that was so unexpectedly heady, my head was swimming.

The first stroke of his tongue came without warning, pulling a high, wobbly keen from my throat. He didn’t give me even a second to brace myself before tasting me with that same focus he gaveeverything—methodical, consuming, relentless in the most delicious way. Each pass of his tongue was a study in precision, and he held me firm while I trembled in his grip.

My hand curled around the back of his neck as I laced the other with his on my hip.

“You’re making me feel so good, Salvatore,” I gasped, riding the edge of something wild and overwhelming. “Please don’t stop. Never, ever stop.”

He groaned into me, the vibration sparking heat that shot straight through my core. His fingers dug into my flesh, guiding me against his mouth as he devoured me, as if he couldn’t get enough.

“You’re such a good boy, Salvatore. So damn good, baby,” I whispered, going out of my mind.

My belly was heavy, filled with liquid fire and desire, yet hollow at the same time. I wanted him inside me. Any part of him. But my tongue was too tied to ask for it. All I could do was rock against his lips as he lashed at my swollen clit and teased my needy entrance.

I was tumbling faster and faster, head over heels. My nails bit into his heated nape for purchase, but it was no use. The free fall was edging closer and closer until I sailed into it. Thick, hot pleasure cushioned my fall, coating my skin and filling my veins.

My legs were jelly as I cried to the ceiling, and then I was flying. Whirling around, my feet left the ground, airborne for long seconds, until my back hit the couch cushions with awhoosh.

He’d thrown me, tossed me like a sack of potatoes, and it was so sexy, I couldn’t form words.

Tore climbed between my parted legs, peering down at me. “More,” he uttered in a rasp.

My limbs were still shaking, nerves vibrating with aftershocks, but the hunger in his eyes lit me up all over again. I didn’t know how it was possible after the way he’d just dismantled me piece by piece.

“Yes,” I breathed, my chest heaving. “Please, yes.”

Tore didn’t waste a second. Sliding down my body, he dragged his mouth over my crumpled dress and along my skin, lips parting to taste the indentation of my belly button, nipping my hip and the inside of my thigh. I reached for him, one hand finding his shoulder, the other slipping back into his hair.

“You really are such a good boy,” I whispered. “Brilliant, so smart, so clever with your gorgeous mouth.”

His eyes slammed shut as a shudder racked him into a moment of statue stillness. I squirmed with impatience, arching toward him.

He looked up, pupils blown wide, lips wet with me. “I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you.” He nudged my thighs wider and lowered his head. “I can’t stop.”

Whether he meant he couldn’t stop wanting me or pleasuring me, I would never know. His mouth was on me again, and I cried out, hips jerking. He moaned like my taste was even better than he remembered, his tongue working me open in slow, devastating strokes, laving my swollen flesh with dogged fervor, unrelenting in his discovery of every intimate part of me.

“Tore…” I gasped, my thighs tensing around his shoulders.

He groaned in response, doubling down in his efforts, and I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. “If you stop, I’ll never talk to you again. Like never,ever,” I babbled. “I’m not just saying that. I mean it with my whole heart. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He devoured me like this was the thousandth time he’d done this, like he’d already memorized me and knew precisely how to touch me. His tongue circled, flicked, pressed exactly where I needed him most, until the tension in my belly coiled tight and hot.

Again.