Linebacker’s Second Chance(84)

“I’m not.” I choke the words out. As scared as I am, my desire outweighs everything. I step out of the dress, and all at once, I’m standing naked in front of the man who’s occupied most every waking moment of my thoughts for the past ten days. I kick the dress aside, and he doesn’t bat an eye. He paid for it, but money is like water to this man. And he doesn’t give a damn if something wrinkles.





“Good goddamn, woman.” He gets to his knees, and I look at him in pure confusion. He’s tugging off his shirt, so impatient that the last button pops off and skitters across the floor. “You’re as perfect as a fucking Michelangelo. Like you were created from the finest marble, the most perfect clay.”





He traces his fingers over my hips, and I suck in a sharp breath, the shock of his warm fingers jolting me straight to my center.





“I’m just--I haven’t done this in a long time--not without--“ He puts up a hand to stop me and squeezes my ass, kneading it with his strong, firm hands. He’s still kneeling in front of me, his shirt cast to the side, his muscles just like he said of me--like they were made to order, carved to the perfection I’ve always imagined. He’s still wearing his tux pants, and something about that is unbearably sexy.





“Me either,” he says, still caressing my skin, drinking me in with his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean we need to talk about it, now does it? That’s a sad thing--two very attractive people like us not getting what they need. Let’s not dwell on what other people have done to us. Let’s just dwell on what we can do to each other tonight.” The laughter bubbles up inside of me, like it always does with Rowan, and I throw my head back, the joy coursing through me. This--this night, the gala, Rowan kneeling before me and worshipping me with his hands--it feels almost excessive, like it should be forbidden.





But hell, it’s the holidays. Time for overindulgence.





Like he’s reading my mind, he pulls me in closer, and his breath his hot against my sex. “Let me see if you taste as good as you look. And my God, woman, I bet to sweet Jesus you do. His words send a shiver through my body. He draws me to him and buries his mouth against my aching, pulsing pussy. All night--hell, all *week--I’ve thought of nothing but this. His mouth on me, his cock, pushing inside of me, taking me and making me feel like real, whole woman again. His tongue seeks out my clit and circles it, and I let out a long, throaty moan.





That’s the thing about not being in an apartment with paper-thin walls. I can fuck as loud as I want, and no one’s going to come knocking at the door, asking me to quiet down. I thread my fingers through his thick, wavy hair. I feel like I might fall as he starts sucking gently on my clit, moaning against me and sending vibrations to my core. Wetness floods my pussy, evidence that this is right, this is what I wanted, and arousal courses through every cell in my body, its epicenter focused on Rowan’s hot, searching tongue.





“Fuck,” I whisper, “Holy fucking hell.” I’m drunk on my own lust, pulling on Rowan’s hair as he moans deeply, the sounds louder and louder. This man knows exactly how to eat pussy, and he’s licking and sucking, running his tongue up and down the tender line of my slit like he was born to do it, like it’s a need that has risen in his blood and begs to be fulfilled. Rowan pushes me against the bed, resting my ass on the edge of the coverlet so he can bury his face between my legs. My eyes almost cross in pleasure, and I cast one leg over his shoulder, welcoming him, opening to him like I never have with any man, ever before. From what feels like a far off distance, I hear Rowan unbuckling himself, his pants falling to his knees. I feel a tremendous groan against my pussy, and he sucks my clit into his mouth hard, gently nibbling on it. I hear him stroking himself, and his face starts shaking against my clit.





Just as I start to come, Rowan stands and steps out of the tux pants. He undoes a foil wrapper with his teeth and slips a condom onto his waiting cock--and my holy hell, he’s big. Before I have time to stammer out an awkward comment, he’s pushing me back on the bed and pressing the head of his massive cock against the entrance to my pussy. Bringing his hand to my clit again, he circles his thumb over my clit as he presses his cock against me. My brain tips into oblivion, a starving need takes me over.





“This is—this is—oh God—” I stumble over the words as Rowan continues tracing his thumb over the sensitive button, bringing me closer and closer to the edge and then pulling his thumb away just as my body begins to shake and shudder.