Every waking moment. “Zach, please.”
“Ask me to do it.”
“Please lick me, Zach.”
“If I didn’t know how freaky you could get…” His eyebrow rose as his mouth lowered just above where I needed it the most. “I’d think you were being shy.”
“I am shy,” I whispered. “You do something crazy to me.”
“You never have to hold back with me, baby. I’ll give you everything you can take.”
I believed him. My hips bucked as a single lick of his tongue traced every fold of my slit. He groaned. My head lowered, resting against the soft leather of the couch.
He dove forward, surging into my aching core and licking, lapping, tasting the slickness that shamed me—revealed me—in his presence.
I couldn’t hide how much I wanted Zach. And I couldn’t convince myself that it was a bad idea because he was my step-brother or because he had a nickname that proved his damning reputation.
But right now? With my legs spread wide, his pale fingers digging into my dark thighs, the flick of his pink tongue against my waiting petals...he treated me like I was the first, only, and last woman he would ever touch.
The trace of his lips along my sensitive skin rolled wave after wave of shivers through my core. I wound up, tight, jerking my hips in the imaginary rhythm of his cock. My pussy clenched. I wanted something more than his tender kisses on the outside of my slit.
I needed him inside me.
With me.
Holding me.
“Zach—”
“You have no patience, baby.” His smile grew. He licked his lips. He licked me off his lips. “I like that.”
I didn’t have time to respond. He dove between my legs, spread me wide enough to reveal everything, and aimed right for that perfect button that I’d grazed with my fingers this morning in the shower. I fantasized about this moment, this naughtiness, this desire.
Zach was better than any of my dirty little thoughts. His tongue flattened against my clit, lapping me up with long, forceful strokes. He watched how badly my body trembled for him. Each lick bound me tighter, cramping me from the inside out. My fingers clenched against the leather of the couch.
His lips captured my clit.
He suckled.
One. Two. Three deep strokes of his sucking and pressing pleasure, and every single problem and conflict, humiliation and pain, concern and fear of my day evaporated in an instant. My life faded into the tiniest, smallest, most concentrated pinprick of sensation. He drew a long lap against my slit, and the world exploded, reformed with shudders and lit with the stars that blinded my vision.
“Zach!” I thought I shouted. My voice cradled in a whisper. I shook and twisted. He didn’t release me. “Wait! I can’t—”
He didn’t believe me. His lips unsealed from the little swollen nub he so expertly flicked and tormented. The draw of his tongue lowered, finding my entrance and savoring the slickness that overwhelmed my slit, my thighs, my core.
God, I would have been so embarrassed had I not needed to feel his mouth so badly.
I wove my fingers behind his head. He liked that. So did I. I pulled him close and held him to my aching slit, my lips moving in silent prayer as his tongue entered the tightness that needed something much more than his devouring lick.
I wanted something bigger.
Thicker.
Hard.
No wonder he had the nickname. No woman could resist the clenching emptiness so near his dusty scent, the prickle of his chin’s stubble against the soft folds between her legs, the hum of his excitement as he suckled and tempted her desire.
“Please…” I whispered. “Please…”
“You want me?”
“God, yes.”
“You sure?”
I nodded. I released his hair if only to rub my own body, to ease whatever heat ached inside me. I held my beasts and squeezed. Who knew how wanton and terrible it looked, but Zach stoked the outside of his jeans, teasing the bulge waiting for me.
This was more than a simple one-night stand.
This was the beginning of something…different. Complicated. Absolutely messy and risky and probably the worst decision of my life.
But Zach made bad decisions feel right, turned complications into an adventure, and forged an unrepentant desire.
Worse…he made the forbidden seem forgivable.
“Take me,” I said. “Fuck me. I want to be yours.”
If only for one night.
Zach’s grin wasn’t the boyish charm he lathered over me. This was a man’s excitement, a hunter’s mark, a waving flag to begin the race...even if I thought I headed in the wrong direction.
He popped the button on his jeans, removing the little foil packet before kicking them away.
“SEALs are like boy scouts?” I didn’t fault his assumption. I was glad he had the foresight, even with the pill I popped every morning.