Where is he?
A shadow moves in the hallway, and then?—
There he is.
Turner stands in the doorway, shoulders filling the frame, his wet hair hanging over his forehead, droplets sliding down his chest, his swim trunks slung low on his hips.
Shuts the door behind him.
Locks it.
Turner doesn’t say a word.
He just reaches down, hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his swim trunks, and shoves them down his hips in one smooth, practiced motion.
They hit the floor with a wet smack, and my breath catches in my throat as he straightens, completely bare, every inch of him on full, glorious display.
God.
His body is carved from stone, every muscle tight and straining beneath his skin, veins popping along his forearms, down his hips, leading to his cock—thick, hard, and heavy, curving up toward his navel, dark and flushed and already dripping.
I lick my lips, thighs pressing together, aching, throbbing, but then he steps forward, those dark eyes locked on mine, and I can’t move.
“I’m going to taste you,” he murmurs, his voice a dark, sinful rasp. “But not like this.”
“What?” I manage, my voice breathless, shaky, my heart hammering so loud I swear he can hear it. His grin widens, eyes flashing with something dark and dangerous.
“I want you to sit on me. You’re going to come on my tongue,” he growls, his hands kneading my ass, pulling me down until my wet, swollen pussy is hovering just above his mouth. “I want to you to fuck my face.”
Holy shit.
He lays on the bed and grabs at my hips, directing me to climb on top.
“C’mon,” he says, voice low and rough, eyes dark and hungry as he sprawls back against the pillows, his muscles rippling beneath his skin, cock hard and thick and resting against his stomach. “Get your pussy up here.”
My entire body is trembling, every inch of me hot and flushed and aching, but when his hands grip my ass, dragging me down, my brain short-circuits.
I gasp, fingers digging into the headboard as his mouth meets me, tongue sliding through my folds, slow and deliberate, eating me out like he’s savoring every single inch.
“Oh my god,” I cry, my head falling back, my hips rocking against his face, every nerve ending on fire as he licks and sucks and fucks me with his tongue like he can’t get enough…
“Fuck,” he groans against me, the vibration of his voice sending a shockwave straight to my core. “You taste so fucking good.”
His hands grip my ass, spreading me wider, holding me in place as he sucks my clit between his lips, his tongue swirling over it in tight, maddening circles that have me crying out, my hips rocking against his face, my head falling back as my vision goes hazy.
His nose bumps against my clit… hands squeezing my ass… holding me down against his mouth as he devours me…
I shatter.
My back bows, a strangled moan ripping from my throat as I come hard, my body trembling, my hips jerking against his face as he keeps licking me, sucking me, his tongue fucking me through every wave, every spasm, until I’m a gasping, quivering mess above him.
But he’s not done.
His hands grip my hips, strong and sure, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing, sliding me down his body until I’m straddling his lap--can’t stop myself from reaching down, wrapping my hand around him, stroking once, twice, feeling him pulse in my grip.
“Oh shit,” he rasps. “I need you to fuck me.”
His back hits the mattress, head resting back against the pillows, those dark, hooded eyes locked onto mine as he spreads his thighs, invites me on.
