At the first taste of her slick warmth, pleasure zips down my spine. I nearly fucking come in my pants right there, moaning as she does. I knew my nickname for her was right—she’s sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted.
Roughly, I yank her panties to the side, needing to get rid of any barrier between us, to taste her fully. I want to devour her.
“So wet for me,” I groan, voice rough. “You’re so pretty here, sweetness.”
There’s no filter between my thoughts and my speech, but she doesn’t seem to mind my blabbering dirty talk. Her hands tighten in my hair.
“Oh—oh fuck!” Savannah moans as my tongue sweeps through her folds hungrily, collecting her desire on my tongue and savoring my first proper taste. God, I’m already addicted.
I find her clit, teasing the tight bud with the tip of my tongue in small circles. Her hips buck and more of those stunning sounds fall from her lips when I find the rhythm she likes. She’s clearly trying to be quiet, such a good girl for me, and I desperately want to grab her and haul her home so she can be as loud as she wants. I want the walls of my apartment to shake from her cries.
“Need to feel you come,” I growl against her flesh, dipping my head to press my tongue inside her. She gasps, and I can feel her pussy tighten around me with pleasure. My cock is so hard it hurts, but I care far more about her relief than my own.
“Sean!” Savannah shakes under me, and I groan, encouraging her. Her voice breaks, one hand leaving my hair to muffle her moans.
The door handle rattles. Someone knocks. I don’t give a fuck. I don’t stop. Nothing will keep me from making my girl come.
“Sean, oh…I’m gonna—oh fuck!”
She comes with a choked, half-muffled cry. I work her clit with my tongue until she’s whimpering from the overstimulation and tugging me away from her. Reluctantly, I back off, kissing her thigh gently before I stand. My mouth is damp from her release, and her eyes catch on it, pupils blown wide. Her hand is still pressed to her lips, and I tug it away, leaning in to kiss her.
“You taste like heaven, Savannah,” I whisper, licking my lips.
“The door,” she whispers, slipping off the counter hastily. Her legs are still weak from her orgasm, and I catch her with a hand around her waist before she falls over. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we just did that.”
I smile at her as she tugs her skirt back down, trying to put herself back together. I open my mouth to reassure her that everything’s okay, to praise her again for doing so well for me, but instead, my name is shouted through the door.
“Sean? You in there? The Weston meeting starts in like…thirty seconds!”
“Shit.” I’ve lost track of time, but I don’t regret it at all. I don’t want to go to that meeting. I want to put Savannah back on that damn counter and see how well she takes my cock. Her panting breaths fill the air as I rake my hand through my hair. “Give me two minutes!” I shout back at my partner, knowing I’ll be late.
When I turn back to Savannah, she’s flushed and her skirt is creased, but she’s as stunning as ever. Even more so because I can see the shine of pleasure in her eyes.
I grab her chin between my thumb and forefinger, and she doesn’t fight me as I tilt her head back to look at me. “This isn’t over,” I promise her. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m never letting you go.”
This girl is mine even if she’s still fighting it. It’s a damn fact.
“Wait for me after work tonight,” I whisper urgently. “Let me make you dinner and finish what we started.”
She inhales sharply, but I don’t wait to hear her answer. It isn’t optional. I need her in my home, in my bed, in my life. And I won’t fucking stop until she is.
I turn away, despite wanting to do the exact opposite, and unlock the door. I stride out to go spend an hour pretending to focus on the meeting instead of savoring the taste of my girl on my tongue.
9
SAVANNAH
How the hell does Sean expect me to get back to work after that?
I wait in the kitchen after he’s gone, trying to get my breathing back under control. My panties are practically ruined, the fabric damp and uncomfortable. My skirt is rumpled, and my face is hot. I can still feel the ripples of pleasure between my legs from what he did to me.
I can’t believe he did that. I can’t believe I let him.
But I can’t bring myself to regret it.
A few minutes and half a bottle of cold water later, I leave the kitchen wearing what I hope is an inconspicuous smile. Everyone’s already back at work, so nobody questions me, but I still rush back to my desk faster than normal as though a coworker could read my thoughts just by glancing my way.
Wait for me tonight…let me make you dinner and finish what we started.His words replay on a loop in my head. I can’t focus on anything else. It gets so bad that I have to write the same email three times because my fingers keep fumbling on the keys. Need pulses between my legs, and I shift awkwardly on my chair.
